From Bella to Quasimodo

First off, I’m writing this on the recommendation of M’s girlfriend, K. She got a front row seat to my allergic reaction and, as a result, decided it would be a good idea to “write a blog about [your] face.” An inspired thought, I must say. But then she’s pretty cool, so it’s not exactly surprising.

Allergies have never been a huge problem for me. Sure, I get stuffed up and sneezy in warmer months and I can’t be around cats without getting itchy and watery eyes (not a huge problem as I don’t even like cats), but that’s about it. It wasn’t until I was about 18 that I had my first experience with hives.

That experience lasted 3 days and left me with laboured breathing and swollen lips.

Since then, hives pop up usually during or after a work out (I MUST be allergic to exercise!). Most times, my lips swell. I know it’s the style to have Angelina Jolie type lips, but there are three problems that hinder my ability to look like one of the sexiest women in the world (at one point. She’s kind of skinny now). First of all, I already have large lips. Second, the swelling tends to be only in one area. It ends up looking like an unfortunately botched collagen injection. And third, I’m not Angelina Jolie.

You can imagine my distress, then, when I started experiencing hives symptoms last night. Burning ears, check. Itchy skin, check. Swelling, check.

Only this time, it wasn’t my lips. Oh, no. It was my eyes.

It started out with just a wee bump. I was in aerobics class, so I thought nothing of it and put it down to either sweat or from rubbing my eyes.

Then it started growing. By this time, the class was almost done and I could see the bump when I looked into the mirror, which was on the opposite wall to where I was. Well, shit.

Now, a little bump would have been fine. Not ideal, obviously, but I could have handled it. But it didn’t stop there. By the time I got home (this all happened within the span of about 20 minutes), my left eye was almost swollen shut and the other eye was getting bigger. Thank the Lord for sunglasses.

I took two Benadryl and sat on my bed with an ice pack on my face. I think it made it worse.

At this point, dinner was being served and M and K were outside my bedroom door, excited to get a look at my hideous deformation. They promised they wouldn’t laugh.

M had his hand over his mouth. K covered her amusement by expressing her concern.

“Oh! Ooh, what happened? You might, uh, want to go to the Doctor’s.” Good advice, but there was no way in Hell I was leaving my house and going into the world looking like Quasimodo. If I was going anywhere, it was to a bell tower to live in shame of my deformity.

My Mom, while obviously expressing concern, had a hard time keeping her laughter to herself. My Dad, still trying to be serious about the issue, couldn’t control his emotions so well that I couldn’t see his face tighten up in order to bite back a smile. J and E, both of whom I sent pictures of my face to, burst out laughing at the sight of me.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have had it any other way. This is the reason I love my family and friends so much.

M, however, was perhaps the most insensitive of them all, asking me to keep my head down as I was sitting across from him at the dinner table and he was disgusted looking at me.

“You look like you’re from the circus.”

I charge $50 a ticket.