On Allergies and Allergens

It's that semiannual time of the year again. The time when my eyes become itchy and watery, my throat becomes scratchy, I sneeze every five minutes, and I get jacked up on Benadryl.

Yes, it's one of my allergy seasons, and worse than the fall because I know that even once spring is over, plants will continue to grow during the summer, send out their pollen and whatnot, and give me occasional attacks even in the supposed "off season." In the fall, I can at least remind myself that every thing will die soon and free me from my suffering.

But alas, the full ordeal is before me, the horror of which makes me, in an ultimately futile effort to distract myself from my misery, personify the local flora and fantasize about the personifications. Example:

The dandelion pokes its stem through the soil, bud rising tentatively above the greening grass. It waves a bit, though there is no breeze, and gives the sense that it is sniffing the air.

Ah ha! it says to its fellow dandelions, who remain but seedlings beneath the ground. I've found one! A sensitive! Boy, can we wreak havoc on her screwed-up immune system. Emerge! Emerge!

Confident now, it opens its yellow head and laughs maniacally while its brethren poke up beside it. Soon, says the first dandelion, now the Dandelion King, we shall be many, and the human will suffer immensely. It waves its leaves. Alert also the crabgrass and cottonwood trees. If we form an alliance with them, her suffering will know no bounds! Bwa ha ha ha ha!

Yes, my liege, says the second largest dandelion, and sends a telepathic message--because the evil plants are telepathic, you know--to the crabgrass and cottonwood trees, whose laughter joins the Dandelion King's.

Meanwhile, I sneeze and a shiver runs down my spine, but I don't know why.

Then there's the alternate fantasy of the personification of my immune system:

Everything's chugging along nicely; the innards of my body are happy as can be and even hum "Whistle While You Work." I inhale, bringing in a cottonwood tree allergen.

Hey, what's that? asks Immune System Component 1. To make it easier, we'll call it Ted.

Immune System Component 2 (henceforth to be known as Cheryl), glances at the allergen. Oh, that. That's just a bit of cottonwood stuff. It's been here before. It won't do anything. Don't worry about it. Cheryl goes on its way.

Ted tries to go back to humming "Whistle While You Work," but can't. Ted eyes the cottonwood allergen.

I don't like you, Ted says suddenly. You're evil! You're here to attack us! Well, we'll get before you can do anything. Mucus membranes, to arms! Lungs, sneeze that puppy out!

Ted, what's going on? asks Bailey, aka Immune System Component 242.

It's that thingy over there, says Ted. It's attacking us.

Bailey, who is, it must be said, very stupid but very powerful, takes Ted's word for it and calls for the entire immune system to leave off "Whistle While You Work" in favor of trumpet blasts and shouts of "Charge!"

All over a harmless little bit of cottonwood.

Sigh. My body is a battleground, and I hate spring.