I arrived in Israel at about lunchtime after flying all night and eating what politely can only be called "food-like semi-nourishment" along the way. I was to stay with a family friend named Ian who generously prepared a delicious Israeli-style salad (cucumber, tomato, olive oil, salt, and feta, though the presence of feta supposedly means it is called a "Greek salad") for lunch. After lunch, we spoke for a while about family, etcetera, and then were to go walk the resident dog. Just before going out, I was presented with a fruit that looked like an apricot. It had been washed, peeled and seeded so the only thing I ate was the flesh. On the upside, it was delicious - like a firm but sweet apricot that had been drizzled with lime juice.
On the downside: I left the house and walked across the street and my ears started itching. I got to the end of the block and felt like I'd just swigged some bad vinegar. I walked another fifty feet and I was coughing and it hurt to swallow. And I had to work very hard to stay calm enough to breathe. I walked quickly back to the house, grabbed a bottle of water, and took two Benadryl and an Allegra (my other antihistamine) though, in retrospect, I should have taken more Benadryl. At this point I was trying not to panic and not to pass out from panic. I could breathe if I did so slowly and deliberately, but I couldn't swallow. My tongue started feeling funny so I looked at it in a mirror. It was covered with little blisters. Ian had returned just after me and I said something along the lines of "If I'm not feeling better within five minutes I think I should go to the hospital." The poor man was understandably mortified. Five minutes later we got in the car.
We got to the emergency room and I tried to communicate to the receptionist that I was having an allergic reaction and having trouble breathing. I must have succeeded because within the next 5 minutes I had been taken in, sat down in a chair, my veins plumbed for an IV, blood drawn, two nurses and a doctor consulted, IV fluids hooked up and some serious steroids pushed into my bloodstream. And then I sat there with Ian for several hours under observation to make sure the drugs worked and I didn't die. Coming down from panic plus IV steroids plus ridiculous jet-lag made me very loopy and sleepy for the next few hours even though I tried to stay awake and conversant with Ian. I do remember several moments where I was in the middle of a sentence and then the sentence just carried on into a very bizarre dream for the next indeterminate length of time. And then I'd wake up and not realize I'd been asleep.
Eventually, an E-N-T specialist came to inspect me. An older man, built like a troll, with magnifying-glass eyes, he grabbed my tongue with a gauze pad and peered down my throat and then said yes, I'd had a reaction to something, and yes, I'd be fine, and yes, I could leave. Amazingly, for the pleasure of much time and care in the Israeli emergency room, the total bill came to $250. I was very pleased not to have to die of shock at the bill after being saved in the ER, like would be typical in the US.
But the most bizarre thing about the whole episode was that none of the doctors, nurses, specialists, receptionists, or even anyone else I met over the entire course of my trip had ever heard of someone being allergic to the fruit known in Hebrew as "shessek" and in English as "loquat." Lucky me. Here's the offender:
Of course there's always the possibility that I was allergic to something microscopic on the fruit or in the water or in the air or anywhere. But the reaction was consistent with a food allergy, especially the way that all of the surfaces in my mouth reacted where they had touched the fruit. I'll go get allergy tests to confirm that it was the fruit so long as they can find essence of loquat with which to test me... So now I'm supposed to carry an emergency epinephrine shot, just in case.Ah, food, the things I do for you.
p.s. If you're not allergic to them, loquats are delicious. Well, they're delicious even if you are allergic to them, but death rather takes some of the pleasure away, I think. I prefer to live to eat another day!
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