Allergies and Novocaine

Back when bed bugs were coursing their way through Manhattan apartments like an unstoppable rebel force (about a year ago), there was no feeling worse than waking up to a few itchy red blemishes on your body. Or at least that’s what I thought….

There I stood, staring at myself in the mirror one fateful August morning. I had a terrible toothache but more disconcerting I had what looked like bug bites all over my chest and neck. Immediately I ripped all the sheets and bedding from my room and threw them in the washing machine. Like the cunning sleuth I fancy myself to be, I inspected the mattress to find and destroy my adversary. I saw nothing…had they moved on? Perhaps the sweet taste of ginger blood had caused them to spontaneously combust? I began getting dressed for work battling with the feeling that bugs were crawling all over my skin. Since the sight of a bed bug bite to an outside party was liken to having leprosy I decided to cover my skin entirely. It was August and I was wearing jeans and a blazer…I began thinking of myself as one of those characters in every zombie movie that gets bit and tries to hide his infection from the rest of the crew as not to be cast out.

I got to the office and was sweating like a whore at Easter Sunday mass. The itching was getting unbearable. I went to the men’s room to inspect the bites, they had doubled in numbers and spread to my arms. What was happening! Were the beasts in my clothing? I started googling “bed bug bites.” A co-worker came by and said, “Daywalker you’ve got hives on your neck.” Hives? I was having an allergic reaction? I was revealed that I didn’t have to fumigate my apartment but vexed by what the hell I could have possibly been allergic to. I had introduced nothing new to my diet, and as far as I know my sheets and bedding were all of respectable enough thread count to not irritate my delicate milky skin. I left work and went to my doctors office to have some blood work done. Much to my surprise there was a new doctor in house…and it was a lady. A sexy lady. As she drew my blood I thought about those porno’s where patients seduce their physicians into office intercourse. Since I looked like I had slept on a bee hive the night before I knew my chances of wooing her were slim. I kept my charm in the holster. Doctor Sexy told me that ninety percent of the time these things are food allergies, but that she wouldn’t have a definite answer until the blood-work came back in 5 days.

My tooth was still killing me and had now began giving me migraines. There are 3 things I hate: Mushrooms, Liars, and the Dentist. Since migraine headaches were shooting up the hatred charts at an unrelenting pace I knew I had to make an appointment with the only dentist I’ve ever gone to. His office was back on Long Island, where I grew up. I couldn’t get an appointment until…

Fast Forward 5 days: Saturday

I lay in the dentist chair, listening to the dentist and his assistant talk about a company picnic as they look at my x-rays. There mundane conversation allowed me to drift away into the ocean landscape painted on the wall. The news of a double root canal brought me back to reality. Since I was going back to Manhattan later that day, I told him to take care of them while I was there. He obliged…for a hefty fee of course. His assistant armed him with 2 gigantic needles, filled with Novocaine. They were both dispensed into my gum line. In 5 minutes I couldn’t feel my face, could barely form a sentence and when asked to “rinse” completely missed the porcelain landing pad provided. Accenting the white tile with blood red saliva and mouth wash. Hell of a weekend so far. I drove home, and when I walked in the door was greeted by my parents, my sister and 2 of my sisters friends. They were eating pizza, which I couldn’t enjoy because of the “don’t eat for 45 minutes” after a dental appointment routine (Did I mention I hate the dentist?). The phone rang and my mother answered. She was giving me the “it’s for you look,” it was sexy doctor. The results of my blood work had arrived.

Sexy Doctor: Good afternoon Mr. Daywalker, hope you’re doing well.

Daywalker: I’m good…thanks (struggled to get those words out of a completely numb mouth)

Sexy Doctor: Just wanted to inform you that your bloodwork came back, and as I suspected it was a food allergy. You’re allergic to peanuts.

I loved peanuts and had eaten them all my life. The news was shocking to me…but not as shocking as I’m sure my response was to sexy doctor. I learned that moment that trying to say the word “peanuts” with 200 milligrams of Novacaine in your mouth is a bad idea.