Today I looked at my youngest on her way out the door and realized that she's only a few months away from tween years. Planning for her allergies today, or this week, is never far from my mind, of course. This is the time of year when I start planning months ahead, too: camp sign ups begin (who needs trained at camp? where is my extra self-carry paperwork?), and I start assessing next year's 504 needs based on how well this school year is going. All of you allergy parents out there know the drill.
One of our more recent hurdles has been approval to self-carry an Epipen set. In just 1 week, we'll be discussing self-injection with the allergist. I'm a big advocate for giving children as much age-appropriate knowledge as possible, so I pushed for this discussion. It's hard to say whether it's the right time, though, because the guidance about when kids are able to inject themselves with emergency life-saving medication is mostly outdated, informal, or polled data. Likewise, there's very little information about when, how, or why to train siblings to administer Epipens in emergencies. When our oldest took a babysitting course, she learned officially how to give an emergency injection; in reality, she was her sister's "injection buddy" on the bus rides to and from school for at least a year beforehand.
Of course, every child is different, both in their ability to understand allergies and their fear (or lack of it) about medicines. I've always considered self-care for my kids as a progression, not a single moment. Over the years, we have acclimated a 5- to 9-year-old to pushing an inhaler button with help, identifying alternate words for butter, and always carrying a bag with emergency medicine and contact numbers. She used to practice self-injection with the trainers in her carseat...but does any of that mean that she's ready to actually take the plunge, so to speak?
Well, it turns out that there are some basic expectations that could tell her doctor and me that she is or isn't ready, and they aren't just about bravery, or responsibility, or a history of anaphylaxis. Those are important, but what kids really have to show a doctor and parent is that they understand the medicine AND the different symptoms of food allergies.
The bottom line is that, before learning how to self-inject correctly, a child has to recognize possible anaphylaxis. After some digging, I found a few key descriptions that we will use to get ready for the self-injection talk:
One thing I'll be sure to explain, too: Being able to self-inject doesn't mean that you're alone in the responsibility of living with food allergies. It's just a way to be brave, not fearful or anxious, if you find yourself without a reassuring adult around in an emergency.
Hi, I'm Nicole.
ABOUT THE BLOG
An apothecary is a person or a place. Either one implies healing and relates to pharmacy in its truest sense, as a source of treatment and advice.
This blog is my way of uniting my pharmacy training with my efforts to provide a healthy and safe lifestyle for my family. In true apothecary form, I research and prescribe alternative ingredients that work just right in each specific recipe, and I would like to share the results with anyone who needs help making their own family’s kitchen allergy safe and heart healthy.
Nicole Van Hoey's books on Goodreads
Bakery Bites: Breads and Treats Without Dairy, Eggs, Nuts, Seeds, or Soy
ratings: 1 (avg rating 5.00)
Kitchen Adventures With Multiple Food Allergies: A Recipe Collection for Celebrations Without Dairy, Eggs, Peanuts, Tree Nuts, Seeds, or Soy