Apropos of nothing, from last week’s "Eight Random Facts" post, there seems to have been some question as to whether or not I actually like cats, just because I’m allergic to them. Let me set the record straight here: personally, I love cats. Every time I see a cat, I want to scoop it up and plop it in my lap. Sometimes I actually wish I could have a cat instead of a dog, because a cat would be so much easier on my schedule and would require much less time spent in dog parks that REEK of hot urine, and also less time in the actual action of bending down and picking up poop, then carrying it to a trashcan.
Unfortunately, my immune system does not share my love of cats, and so, ten minutes after one so much as brushes against me, I get a twinge inside my nose, which then makes me rub my eyes, which makes my eyes start to water, which makes me rub them more, which then very effectively spreads the cat dander up into my mucous membrane, which then makes me start to wheeze. The sum total of this is always my poor husband having to drive me to the store to get some Claritin, which of course I don’t have with me, and my face being swollen up like a potato for the 48 hours it takes for all the fluid to drain out so that I don’t look like I was involved in some sort of accident or heavyweight championship fight. Sometimes, I rub my eyes hard enough to give myself a black eye, and that’s fun too, because people tend to REALLY believe that you have a black eye because you’re so allergic to cats that you tried to rub your face off.
This is ironically coupled with the fact that cats LOVE me, as if they can smell the fact that their hair, or dander, or whatever it is that gets up into my nose, just kills me. Because you know the minute you’re not supposed to touch a cat, THAT’s when the cat is all over you. Cats who are totally anti-social are all over me, jumping on me, rehabilitating their surly personalities to crawl into my lap. And once they’re there, I can’t just ignore them, and that’s when the terrible cycle of itching, sneezing, and me clawing at my own eyes begins. Believe me, if there was a way to own a cat and to not have this happen, I’d be all over it. I tried the allergy shots, and they barely made a dent in this problem. I practically have to carry the Epi-Pen in case I encounter a cat.
So now, every time Stephan sees this, he then goes "yeah– do you have Claritin? Remember last time? Go wash your hands."
Special thanks to Rachel for the photo of her lovely cat Mags.