Barley Breathing 😮‍💨

Where Emma finds allergies

Welcome! Lots of new faces here - so I’ll try to be on best behaviour 😇

If you’ve never had the pleasure of visiting an immunologist for a skin prick test. It’s like this - part medieval torture chamber, part awkward family dinner where everyone tells you what they really think of you.

Except in this case, the insults come from your own bloody immune system.

There I was, sitting in the sterile little office, fully clothed (because this isn’t that kind of appointment) armed with a vague sense that my body might be a bigger drama queen than I am.

The nurse cheerfully approached with what I can only describe as a tray of mini spikes, each containing a tiny sample of some common allergen.

“We’ll just scratch these onto your arm and see what happens,”

As if “see what happens” were not the sort of phrase you reserve for dodgy science experiments or tasting expired milk.

The scratching began. Dust mites, cat dander, tree pollen, mould. No real fireworks yet. But then came barley - malted in particular and my skin lit up like a Christmas tree.¹ The swelling was immediate, the redness unmistakable, and the itch so intense I briefly considered gnawing my arm off.

“Oh, that’s a big reaction,” she seemed delighted…sadist.

Turns out, barley malt the star ingredient in whisky so the very air² near a distillery is my body’s sworn enemy.

This revelation explained a lot. Like when my family found me happily lying on the bed…not breathing much, after whisky had been consumed in the house (not by me!). I don’t even have to drink the stuff - just breathing barley malt in the wild is enough to send my immune system into full anaphylactic overdrive.

Now, as a Scottish person, being allergic to whisky feels a bit like a cleric being allergic to holy water. Whisky isn’t just a drink, it’s a cultural institution, a sacred rite and in some corners of Scotland, practically currency. So, this particular allergy isn’t just inconvenient; it’s borderline blasphemous.

But wait, there’s more!

Salicylates, which sound like the name of a cheery girl band, are natural chemicals found in things like vinegar, courgettes (zucchini) and a whole host of other foods. I’ve always hated courgettes and now I know why - they’ve been trying to murder me all along. And vinegar? Not my bag anyway.

The test continued, my arm resembling a badly planned game of connect-the-dots. Somewhere in the process, I mentioned that I already knew about one allergy. Latex. Found out the fun way years ago, because apparently my immune system decided to use condoms as a learning opportunity. Nothing says romance like having to explain to your partner why you’re suddenly breaking out in hives in the lower regions.

And then there’s the wild card, the arsehole - Parkinson’s. My neurologist has hinted that the condition might make me more sensitive to allergens as if having a tremor and dopamine deficiency weren’t enough excitement for one body. It’s like my immune system heard Parkinson’s knocking and thought, “Let’s make this a party!” Bodies are weirdly interconnected that way and mine decided that whisky and courgettes are now mortal enemies.

By the end of the session, my arm looked like a map of tiny red landmines, and my sense of food security was in tatters. The immunologist handed me a long list of “things to avoid,” and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just been put on a cosmic no-fly list.

But hey, at least I’m not allergic to wine because let’s be honest, there’s only so much betrayal one person can take.

The moral of the story? Bodies are weird. Allergies are weirder. And apparently, my immune system is less “guardian of health” and more “overzealous bouncer at the nightclub of life.”

Still, knowledge is power. Even if that power comes with the realisation that your beloved glass of whisky or innocent courgette slice might secretly be plotting your demise.

Cheers to that.

with love

E xxx

1. See - I can be festive…🎄

2. It’s true - when we drive through a local whisky-producing town I get a strange prickle all over and generally feel shit.