and the verdict is?

Anaphylactic to wheat. Moderate to barley. Allergic (to unknown degree) to rye and oats. Unless the test overstates the matter, which the bloodwork is often wont to do. Even so, the numbers I see indicate something, though we may not know exactly what the implications of that something are...

Sigh. When even the tests are hard to interpret, how do you know what you are really dealing with?

Came downstairs this morning and stared at the birdseed. It looked an awful lot like it had wheat. After preschool, took both boys to the pet store (and took all four EpiPen Jrs). Yup. Every brand of birdseed for parakeets has wheat, and some also have sesame and nuts. And peanuts. Sigh. Now what? Bought some millet and went home, where I called a couple of avian vets. Got the pet store to swear that they'd arrange a good adoption should we be, in the Mater's words, trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. (Or rather, a standard peg into a hole characterize by several standard deviations from the norm - did I get that right, jgfellow?) Vacuumed for 45 minutes, terrorizing the baby, and scrubbed the bird's cage. Tossed the birdseed down the garbage disposal, taking a certain dark pleasure in holding the switch to 'ON.'

I have moved past the stage where I holler things like "what the freaking hell" and "holy mother of god!" (yes, some Jews swear in Christian), and am now a bit numb. I have no idea how life works without the major grains. Even my allergy groups, replete as they are with other veteran mums, is now silent, awed by my sons' allergic range. They offer much empathy and few solutions. But I can tell you this: we've rented a carpet cleaner, and the carpet under our dining table is now soggy and has pretensions at cleanliness. Next up: the car, complete with pretzel fragments.
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Here's what worked this week:

from the Kitchen Garden, a non-waldorf salad, minus blue cheese and with apples, cauliflower, sunflower seeds and fresh thyme and lemon zest. Yum, said the grown-ups. No thank you, said the eldest.

from the Lactose-Free Family, a wild rice, green bean and canned salmon salad in a vinaigrette dressing. Made a huge quantity. Again, yum! said the grown-ups. Um, not so very much, thanks, said the kid.

from the Boston Parent's Paper, a soy-maple-ginger chicken. Hooray, said we all! Yippee, said the married-to-a-vegetarian, who'd escaped for the night.

My thanks to the Tuesday playgroup for being guinea pigs, and to the ever determined magid, who watched me incoherently eat sushi last night, reminded me of meatloaf, as well as raising the intriguing possibility of dessert-ish spring rolls. (With mango and apple and mint, I think. Possibly also lemon zest? pineapple?) I can only hope that the fog will lift onto a world whose rules I understand. But first, this week's painful attempt at making challah.

In the loosest sense of the word...
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Think allergies are all gloom and doom? Try this for a giggle. I'm dying to get one!