by Miravanni

Created on: June 08, 2009   Last Updated: June 09, 2009

I live with this every day, the sick feeling that one day will be the last day for my 4 year old son. Peanut has become a weapon,and grocery shopping ,eating out,finding a preschool all potential death sentences. People don't get it either, they think I am just being over protective. They don't understand that just touching the residual oil will give him hives. They assume his eppi-pen is a solution. Well it's not even a band-aid. If he makes it to the hospital the same thing that could save his life could take it. The eppi-pen could send him into cardiac arrest, so if and when I need it, I have to pray that they have advanced life support to keep him alive just on the ride to the hospital.

This has been a long road to discovering a lot about food, the way we eat and how ignorant people can really be. We found out when his grandmother gave him a peanut butter cookie, mistaking it for a sugar cookie when he was 13 months. At that time he had not been diagnosed with it, but had gotten hives from the shells so I suspected it enough to avoid it but had not had testing done yet, it actually took longer then I expected, at first I thought he was just getting seasonal allergies or a cold, we were walking him in his stroller. He started coughing a little but wasn't real fussy, when we got home I give him some benedryl. I, to this day have no idea why I did that, why not tylenol? About 2 hours later he threw up and his bowel movements had erupted through his diaper and clothing. Still no swelling, I didn't see the signs. Maybe because I didn't know what I should be looking for. I really thought well me must be getting the flu, first time mom at the time, I washed him up and get him settled for a nap but he wouldn't let me leave and usually he settled right down for a nap. 20 minutes later I was still laying with him side by side and he rolled over with his thumb in his mouth.

I was horrified his little face and ears had swollen up and his tongue seemed to no longer fit in his mouth. I tore the stroller apart, collecting my diaper bag and keys to go to the hospital and then found the wrapper of the peanut butter cookie my mom had feed him on our walk while I was in the bank. Then the panic set in.

I literally left him for minutes, and never thought twice about it, I assumed my mother understood not to feed him peanuts.

Those days of assumption have long passed. My son survived thanks to the benedryl I gave him, which slowed it down enough to get him to a hospital.

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