Chaletgirl

Big Day

It’s that time of year again. Time for Henry’s annual allergy challenge.

We’ve done this before. Twice.

After the last challenge, the horrific cheese challenge in June last year, I made it clear to the doctor that we were never going to go through that again. She said that we would have to wait for a much better skin prick test result to bypass the cheese. She said that it could be years before it was mild enough to allow a yoghurt challenge. I said that was perfectly fine. Years, we would wait.

The good news is that at the end of last year, Henry’s skin prick test showed an improved reaction – one good enough to warrant scheduling a yoghurt challenge at the next available challenge date. In fact, depending on the skin prick test result on the day, possibly even a milk challenge! And if he passed that – he would no longer be allergic to dairy. Can you imagine?

Fast forward to today, the next available challenge date. Yes, you read right. In December 2010, the next available challenge date was September 2011. Do you think the allergy clinic is busy? Much?

So again, we head off to Westmead today, armed with everything needed to keep a 6 year old boy and his Mummy busy for 5-6 hours of waiting, waiting, waiting. He will have to have a skin prick test first, to see if the reaction has changed since his test in December. If it is as mild, then we will go ahead with the food challenge (yoghurt or milk, depending on the reaction). If the reaction is significantly worse, we might be sent home with no food challenge. Fingers crossed that that is not the case. I would love to have the next challenge under our belt, whether or not he passes it.

It’s a big day, and a tough day. Having to force a child to eat food that he has been told, since the day he can remember, not to eat it because it will make him sick…..it’s tough. For both of us. He’s a stickler for the rules, my kid, and this goes against his very nature.

I am careful not to let my flicker of hope show at all. From his perspective, this just has to be something that he has to do, results are irrelevant. I never want to let him feel like he failed, that he let me down. So my flicker of hope is squashed down in the bottom of the bag, under the books, the snacks, the iPad and the big smile on my face.

But it’s there. And that’s enough for me.