Dear Pollen, Part Two: A Letter From An Allergy Sufferer

Dear Pollen,

This time last year I wrote you a letter. I wanted you to know you are the bane of my existence. And now that it’s spring again and you are back in my life, I must update that letter, and let you know once more how much you make me suffer.

Look pollen, I understand that you are essential to the process of life on earth as we know it, but I hate you anyway. These seasonal allergies have me in a serious huff and puff, and with this pandemic not yet over with, I do not need any false flag operations going down in my immune system – I’m enough of a hypochondriac as it is.

So…Spring is here…and the bright, warm days, following a later rain dump than usual this year, have led to quite the bloom. What it means for folks with grass and tree pollen allergies (like me) is a scratchy, itchy, sneezy existence. Along with that, there exists the constant conversation in my head about whether I’m actually sick or not.

These days, I have to essentially lock myself in my house with all the windows shut until the worst is over; coincidentally, the lockdown is ending. My sneezing is incessant; my nose is so irritated I want to run an industrial-strength pipe cleaner though my nasal passages (*legal disclaimer – that is a joke), and my eyes – oh, for the love of goodness gracious, my eyes! So, so, so itchy!

I am probably going to get some sort of horrible eye infection like I do every year because I cannot stop touching them. Also, my nails are like razors and even though the skin around the eyes is so super-tough and resilient, I might be doing some damage with all this irresistible scratching and tugging and smushing of my eyelids.

I have been downing Benadryl and some generic-something-or-other anti-histamine like it’s candy, all to no avail. And If you could overdose on eye drops, I would be dead by now. I have eaten local farm-to-table honey to no avail. My neti pot helps. But what I need is a bubble. Like the one in Bubble Boy, or this lady.