An official diagnosis

So, it's official:  William's got sulphite sensitivity.  Not that it was a surprise, but I can say that I was secretly hoping it'd be the grapes.  Not so.  It's not often that you leave the allergist's office with him saying to you, "I'm sorry.  I wish it was something else.  You're not going to be able to eliminate it, but avoid as much of it as you can."  So there you have it, in a nutshell.

The visit was rather anticlimactic.  There was scrambling to find a grape to do a skin test, just to make sure it wasn't actually the grapes he was allergic to.  William thought it all very amusing, especially when they cut the grape in half and rubbed it on his arm.  The only positive reaction, though, was the histamine control.  And, as there's no reliable skin test for sulphite sensitivity, and because our detailed food diary indicated a positive correlation, that was the end of it.

Nothing's changed for William.  He had a minor reaction this morning to the Cheezies he ate last night (unbeknownst to me, damn!), but the Benadryl seems to have helped and he's currently sprawled on our bed upstairs, sleeping with Sleepy Bunny.

I thought an official diagnosis wouldn't really affect me.  After all, Ocam's Razor being what it is, the most logical culprit was sulphites.  But it's the "official" notice of a significant change in our lives, and whether I want to admit it or not, I'm going through the stages of change (or grief, depending on how you want to look at it), which is, in a way, why I'm posting this a week after the appointment.  Maybe, if I don't write it down, it won't be real.  Denial at its best, eh?