Attack of the Killer Kiwi

Picture it: a small kitchen in Carrasco Norte as the sun was setting in the west. I closed down Minecraft and headed downstairs to start dinner. Mikey was peeling a kiwi we had bought two days earlier at our local mercado. Just as he started to slice it, I grabbed one and ate it. It was not ripe. It was still firm and had a bitter, tart taste. However, it still tasted good.

After I put the pot of water on to boil, I reached over and had another slice. I mean, it may not have been totally ripe, but it was still kiwi. How could I resist? I took another, and then finally the last slice that Mikey had left on the cutting board.

I sat in my recliner (I am old and love my recliner) and waited for the water to boil. It takes so long for water to boil. How long does it take? I could finish the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle faster than it takes for water to boil, and I am really bad at crossword puzzles. How bad ore you? Nope, I am not going down that rabbit hole.

Five minutes after I sat down, I noticed the back of my throat and tongue began to itch. I scratched the back of my mouth with my tongue. This action “soothed” both just a bit. I didn’t think much about it. Mikey had been sick with similar symptoms. In our house, we believe it is better to give than to receive, and I guess he gave me his cold. It was bound to happen.

A few minutes later, we diverged from the thought of a cold to something much darker and more sinister.

The itching began to move down my throat. I shifted my thinking from a cold to an allergic reaction. What had I come into contact with that could cause this? The only thing I had eaten recently was the kiwi. I thought, It can’t be the kiwi. I had eaten them before like a champion. Just a few days ago, I had eaten as a part of a cup of fruit from a local restaurant.

Next, my hands began to itch. You know the level, where it is simply an irritant that you tolerate. I scratched my palms, but that did not help. The intensity increased. The insides of both hands began to turn from pale white to red AND began to swell. We shifted from itchy to pain. It felt like my hands had been bitten by a million mosquitoes in a single second.

I told Mikey what was happening. We both agreed that it was an allergy and the kiwi—I’m sorry, I misspoke—the KILLER KIWI was the cause.

I finished making dinner and sat down to eat. By this time, the palms of my hands and fingers were red hot and swelling to the point that the creases had disappeared. Gone. No trace. They didn’t even leave a note. It was like they just got up and left.

Where is an EpiPen when you need one? I was ready to stab myself with the world’s largest needle and inject some top-secret, never-before-tested cure into my body. Mikey began looking through Mercado Libre (it is similar to Uber Eats or DoorDash, but it delivers practically anything you need in a matter of minutes). He was looking for Benadryl. They did not have it. Nor did they have any other type of medicine you could think of.

He had to shift from American brand names to Uruguayan labels. To do that, he identified the primary ingredient in Benadryl, searched for medicines in Uruguay with that ingredient, and tried to find the equivalent on Mercado Libre. All the while, I was sitting in my recliner scratching my hands and throat and making noises that only a possessed person would make.

The reaction moved down into my stomach. I began to feel queasy. I thought that at any moment I was going to spew like a geyser. I walked upstairs and went to the bathroom. I sat on the floor and waited. I was not going to display the beginning stages of digesting ravioli with pesto for the family to witness.

The good news: the system never shifted into reverse. However, as I sat there on the floor, with the pain increasing, I noticed it. My feet began to tingle and itch and whelps formed on my skin. You have got to be kidding me.

I moved from the bathroom floor to our bed, rotating between scratching the back of my mouth, my hands, and now my feet. It was like a children’s song: “Scratch your mouth, hands, and feet. Your mouth, hands, and feet. Your mouth, hands, and feet.” All while wailing in pain.

I briefly considered jumping out the bedroom window but then remembered I was only one story up and would land in our backyard. What exactly was that going to solve?

Shortly after ordering, the medicine was delivered (I doubt that PodisaYa driver realized he saved a life that night) and I took my pills. It was not immediate relief. It took about an hour before the need to scratch began to fade away. Mikey kept reminding me not to scratch. That was like a parent telling their child not to scratch chicken pox. It was going to happen.

After a very long hour, I finally began to feel relief. My hands and feet returned to their natural color. I thought our horror film was coming to an end. The credits were starting to roll, and I was ready to get up from my seat and leave the theater.

Then the credits stopped rolling and a clip came up on the screen. Just like Marvel movies do. NEVER leave a Marvel movie until the credits are done, or you will not know what your friends are talking about.

My lips began to tingle and then itch. My lips? Really? As I was shutting down for the night and reading in bed, my scalp developed the same sensation. Thankfully, neither one got above a two on the pain scale. By morning, I was back to normal and symptom-free.

Next time something like this happens, we are calling 1727 (the number for the ambulance). Now before you say that is an over reaction to the situation, know this. When an ambulance is dispatched to a call, it has the paramedic, a nurse, AND a doctor. The doctor assesses and when they can, they treat you there. If they can, the you get a FREE ride in a cool vehicle. By sending a doctor on emergency call, Uruguay has learned the practice reduces the overall cost to the person and burden on an emergency room. The cost, just part of our mutualista plan.

After a reflection of the night’s events, I developed the hypothesis that I am allergic to kiwi. I am not going to test that hypothesis. I do not want to have that experience ever again. I am simply going to eliminate kiwis from my diet.

Why can’t I have common allergies? Or better yet, why can’t I be allergic to things such as exercise, green peas, or brussels sprouts? NO. I have to be allergic to things such as curry (something in curry triggers migraines in me that last for days) and kiwi.

I gave Mikey all the Killer Kiwis to eat, and in return for my gallant gesture, he gave me his cold. Now we are both sitting in our apartment with our first Uruguayan cold.

The name “Killer Kiwi” makes me think of the Fighting Okra from Delta State University. All my orientation leaders from University of West Florida that went to SROW know this reference.

Today’s weather will be: High 15°C and low 9°C with a chance of rain later this evening.

Thank you for sticking with me. Share this post as you please. Always remember: be kind to yourself and be kind to others.