Peanut Allergy: A Short Story

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My Story On What It is Like To Have A Severe Peanut Allergy
I was a mere three-year-old at the time, transfixed eyes wandering up at my mom watching her devour some seemingly delicious cashews. “Can I try one?” I questioned with a huge grin plastered onto my face. “Of course!” my mom warmly replied back at me, handing me what I wished for. Within seconds, my entire face blew up, cheeks bigger than a chipmunk, eyes bigger than a fly, hives redder than a tomato; I had no idea what was happening. My mom panicked in a frenzy, dialed 9-1-1, and in a short period of time, I found out life-changing news: I was one of the unlucky 3 million people to be diagnosed with having a fatal peanut allergy.
Being included in the minority of people who have such a severe allergy is difficult, especially when everyone around is nomming away on delicious treats, namely Kit Kats or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Growing up and attending birthday parties were hard too; when everyone was enjoying a tasty confetti-flavored cake, I was nibbling on Little Bites brownies, holding onto my EpiPen instead. In these moments I felt out of place; it made me feel weird that prior to the party, my mom had to directly hand a special snack for me to eat to a parent who would hold onto it until it was time for food. At the
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When my friends ask if I want to try some of their food, I must always question, “Do you know what’s in it? Are there any nuts?” Hence I am so vigilant of what I put into my body, I have never had an instance where I had to use my EpiPen, which is a very good thing. Not only does my family feel more secure knowing that I was taught well enough to stay out of harm’s way, but it makes me feel better about myself that at such a young age, I am able to look after myself. Though it is hard to have such a severe allergy, I have made the most out of what I possibly
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