You can probably guess from my name that I've got a few allergies. In fact, aside from eczema, I still enjoy the two popular childhood atopic afflictions of asthma and allergic rhinitis. Whilst these illnesses can be a pain in the neck (or lung, or nose, or wherever), they pale in comparison to the big mama of atopy; Anaphylaxis.

This post is the first in a series of three about Anaphylaxis. The series will detail four case studies and summarise some some things to watch out for. First up is a case study - about me.

It was the end of my third year of Pharm school. I was taking a brief stop-over at home between returning from Uni and embarking on a summer of work in pharmacies overseas. I'd had a minor surgery a few days earlier - a day procedure. So, before I left, my family had decided to take me out to a nice restaurant for dinner. After that, the plan was for my brother and I to hit up one of the pubs. Of course, I would be the driver. Over dinner, I felt immensely uncomfortable. I had a fever and was sweating a bit too much for a balmy summer evening. The wound site was red, painful, hot and still swollen. Yup, I was showing all the signs of infection. After surviving dinner, I requested one of the cars so I could quickly pop into the hospital and get some antibiotics. I'd meet my bro at the pub.

At the hospital, things were pretty quiet, especially for a Friday night. That being said, it was still light outside and I'm talking here about one of the busiest emergency departments in the southern hemisphere. I was seen in about 90 minutes. The final year medical student took a history and gave me a full examination. I'm NKDA. I was pretty impressed at the time, she came across as most professional. She said that she's conferred with her colleague and, Yes, you do have an infection, and we'll prescribe you some of these. Take these two now and here's a 'script and off you go.

Sweet, I thought, I'm off to the pub. I was looking forward to farewelling the crew for the summer and jetting off. I phoned Captain Underpants, my best friend, and confiremd the locale and drove off. On the way, my hayfever really started to play up. My home town's pretty notorious for pollen and the like, and since I'd been there only a few days, I thought it was that. Next thing, though, my throat feels dry. I'm clearing it and blowing my nose and wiping my eyes. I'm pissed off at the traffic, which is minimal. About five minutes after leaving the hospital, I'm at the pub. Captain Underpants comes out to meet me, and he's in a most jovial mood - he doesn't want to wait for the loo, so he's going to piss behind the dentist's surgery across the street. I wander across with him, because I think he's gonna get hit by traffic. He doesn't. I complain about my hayfever.

Then it clicks. I'm having an allergic reaction. I'm in deep. It feels like the world is about to end.

I (pointlessly) ask Captain Underpants if he's sober enough to drive. He ain't. So, I jump into my car and speed to the hospital. At about 25km over the speed limit the whole way. My vision is blurry. Through two red lights (left turns, luckily). I drive up into the hospital. My tongue feels huge in my mouth. I can't close my lips because my gums feel like Bubba from Forrest Gump. My mind is in overdrive. I'm stressing out. I consider the possibility of the car getting towed, and I don't care. I park opposite the ambulance bay in the staff car parks at about a 20 degree angle to everyone else. I dash through the same doors I'd sauntered through an hour earlier. Things have begun to get dizzy. I shove the 'script from my pocket on the triage desk and say; Anaphylaxis! Then, I collapse.

About forty minutes later I wake up and, boy, do I feel awful. I go to scratch my throat, but it turns out I'm strapped to the bed. Both arms have lines in, and I'm wearing oxygen. My brain is charging. The medical student comes over to me, profusely apologising, I tell her it's no-one's fault. My shirt is unbuttoned and I am fully wired for monitoring. I can see hives all over my chest. I get drowsy and nod off - no mean feat when full of adrenaline.

A bit later I wake up; it's about 11.30pm. The nurse comes over and gives me some water. The strapping had been undone and I'm feeling much, much better. I still feel tight across the chest a bit, but hey, I can breathe! She gets me the phone, and I call home. My parents are shocked and a bit cranky - Dad asks if it happened at the pub and whether it could have been avoided. I tell them I'll be in until the morning, so come and get me then. The med student comes back to check on me a few more times; by 2am, I'm asleep.

Most readers will appreciate that the ER is not an easy place to sleep. At 6.30am everything 's buzzing, and frankly, I feel like a million bucks. I'm all full of steroids, and sedating antihistamines which have ceased to sedate me. Dad shows up at seven thirty, and he's really relaxed. Nothing's a problem, no worries, are you okay? Do you need to change your flight? Just prior, I'd been given the word that I could head home, prednisone in hand.

In the car, Dad says that when he walked in one of the nurses had pulled him aside. She told him what had happened and how they'd treated me. He also tells me that the nurse had said, "Your son is very lucky he's well trained. Anyone else in that situation at a pub would probably be dead."

Anaphylaxis is scary as hell, can come from nowhere, and can kill you in minutes.

Next time; Stories of Anaphylaxis: Part II: Two adolescent cases from pharmacy.