Opinion : August health risk: Beware of allergy sufferers like me

Public Health Departments all over the U.S. should be, right now, issuing the following public health warning:

“Beware: This is the time for seasonal allergies. You should be aware that many of your fellow citizens – normally sane, logical, safe neighbors – may be acting in ways that threaten their health, and yours.”

Without exception, at this time of the year, I can count on hearing the same question:

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

While I often hear that question throughout the year for other non-health reasons, in August my answer is always the same.

While most other Iowans are enjoying the break in the sultry weather, and basking in the sun and slightly cooler and less humid conditions, I am not.

Not at all.

While most other Americans are looking forward to the final days of vacation before school begins, I am only looking forward to September and October.

I don’t blame anyone for asking the questions. If I sit in a meeting, wiping my nose, or breathing too loudly; If I stop for a second, blinking and leaning up against a wall. If I growl at something that does not seem worthy of a growl; they want to know why.

Allergies, that’s why.

“Allergenic rhinitis,” says my medical chart.

“Hay fever” is the old word for it, although hardly anyone uses that term any more. For most people, it’s not caused by hay (although a hay loft is, for me, one of the most miserable places to be). And it usually does not cause a fever.

So what’s my problem?

Hay fever, simply put, is caused by a hyperactive, paranoid immune system.

Most of the time, our bodies can tell the difference between friend and foe.

For most of you, when your body senses pollen, it simply says, “Oh, you again. Hello.”

But those of us with hay fever have a complete different immune reaction.

Our immune system reacts to pollen the way Paul Revere did to Redcoats. It gallops through my body yelling “The pollen are coming! The pollen are coming!”

And soon, the war is on.

The bodies of hay fever patients do everything they can to chase away the intruding pollen, trying to – to paraphrase Francis Scott Key – “wash out its foul footsteps’ pollution.”

Noses sneeze.

Eyes run like Niagra Falls.

Our throats and noses turn to sandpaper to try to rub it away.

Our nasal passages close to try to keep the pollen from getting into – or out of—our heads.

And all this needless physiological xenophobia makes us sick. In addition to the symptoms we experience, we feel dizziness and fatigue and a variety of other bizarre symptoms.

Me, I get hungry during allergy season. I want to eat anything, at any time. Like cheeseburgers and pot pies at 2 a.m.

Add to all of this the side effects of the medicine. The only thing that stops my throat from itching in August is chlorpheniramine maleate.

The side effects of this medication include drowsiness and excitability. Show me a man who is experiencing excitability and drowsiness and I will show you a man who runs in his sleep.

While the symptoms are generally the same, they vary from year to year.

Lots of sneezing.

Itching in my nose, eyes and throat, and even my ears.

Running nose.

Dizziness.

This year, the first one I felt was dizziness that began late in July. In the last few years, allergy season did not seem to start until mid-August; I hope an early start to the symptoms this year means an early end, and not a longer season of grumpy misery. (My family concurs, especially about the grumpy part.)

In an attempt to make me feel better – or more likely, an attempt to make me less grumpy— many people offer me health suggestions.

“Dean,” they ask. “Don’t you (or can’t you) take medication, or get a shot, or something?”

Yes.

Does it help?

Not so much

The shots and prescription medications never seemed to help. I take (and recommend to other hay fever sufferers) some homeopathic medicines that seem to lessen the overall misery. Apparently, these medicines introduce the allergens to my body in a way that makes them seem less dangerous to my immune system.

But while medications make us less miserable, we still suffer.

And we live in a society that is largely unaware of how we suffer. That makes us more grumpy.

For example, usually about three weeks after the misery begins, I watch the evening news.

“The pollen count will be high,” says TV guy. “You may experience some allergy symptoms.”

“Duh,” I think. “Where were you a month ago?”

Then, in September, when things are finally getting back to normal, and we can breathe again, all of the non-allergy sufferers plan their autumn recreation.

And what do they want to do? Hay rides!

While non-allergy sufferers can find it fun to sit on a wagon full of hay, riding around the country side, I most certainly do not.

To me, an invitation to a hay ride makes as much medical sense as an invitation to go running through a hospital, shoving our hands into those red medical waste containers.

A hay ride? You might was well invite me to a malaria ride or avian flu ride, sharing mosquitoes. BYOB – bring your own bugs.

What surprises me is that the Public Health Department has not yet begun issuing annual warnings.

Not about hay fever. About the potential dangers presented to the rest of you by those of us who have it.

People like me.