Allergy angst - rant 1

How come every time I meet an allergist I feel flattened, as if all the air, energy and joy has been syphoned out of my body?

As you may recall, last December Sophie was diagnosed as having dairy, egg and soy allergies and we didn't even bother testing for nuts or shellfish or sesame or... This is in addition to Seb's allergies to peanuts and shellfish and strange issues with eggy foods.

We were hopeful that like Seb she would outgrow the egg and over the months, we were fairly sure that she had outgrown the dairy problem (especially as she had eaten half of a chocolate bar 6 weeks after the diagnosis). But we couldn't stomach testing that ourselves, so we waited and waited for an appointment with a Toronto-based allergist.

Well, yesterday with the sun shining and 2 excited young children in tow, we went to meet that new doctor. Fancy address, fancy building, less than child-friendly office. No toys or books, no play space while waiting the extra 20 mins; because of allergies, one isn't allowed to eat or drink anything in the office (tell that to a hungry 21 month old). This nationally-renowned doctor (as it turns out) had no - zero - rapport with the children; we weren't even offered water to soothe Sophie.

Seb was just chomping at the bit for his sister to be tested and okayed for milk stuffs. It melted my heart to see him so happy to anticipate someone else's good news. And this doc just rained on my 4 year old's parade.

First off, the specialist completely pooh-poohed skin tests - even rolling her eyes. She name-dropped constantly; she had copies of her book all over the place.

Then, she said that we must consider Sophie allergic to the things she tested positive for but wouldn't re-test her because she doesn't believe in it...

Then, she said Seb should not only carry a double epi-pen for possible anaphylatic reaction, but a medic alert bracelet. He is 4 years old. Does she have no idea of schoolyard bullying / being made to feel different? this pipsqueak of a boy who already carries a big waist pack everywhere he goes.

Finally, she took the history of Seb's wheezing and labelled him asthmatic. Treatment? Daily doses of cortisone - indefinitely. Oh, sure it limits children's growth but they make it back by the time they are adults (how do they test that?).

She didn't smile once. It got to the point where I felt she must be working for the drug companies, as she pushed double epi-pens on each child (one of whom can't even say her own name yet), daily doses of steroids and a puffer.

So where does this leave us?
1- With the option of reportedly waiting over a year for Sophie to be "challenged" in a hospital setting.
2- with the possibility of skin testing Seb for egg and walnut (as there are question marks there).
3- Going for a 3rd opinion (sorry medicare budget) since the 2 doctors that we have consulted have completely - 180 degrees - different approaches to how to diagnose and treat our kids. And our approach to living healthily tends to be nore in sync with our no-longer-available-to-us NB specialist.
4- continue to nurse Sophie into the fall (but hopefully not beyond)

Stay tuned. Until then, we continue on as before. Sorry, no ice cream parties at our house.

P.S. On a positive note, we accidentally discovered last week that Sophie can have chickpeas; we already knew that she can eat sesame. So we have established the hummous family fan club - if anyone would like to join.