How a slice of bread gave my daughter an allergy attack

Different circumstances this time to the peanut butter. A few weeks ago I tried the rounds of asking bakeries near our GP’s office on the off-chance that any of them made bread on-site that was soy free. To my delight, there was an artisan bakehouse, specialising in bread, that assured me (after checking) that they had a white Farmhouse Loaf that was absolutely definitely soy free.

It sounds really simple but Miss 2 and I were so overjoyed to be able to eat soft fluffy white bread. It’s a long drive from home so I sliced it up, we ate beautiful bread for a couple of days, and I froze the rest for emergencies while I kept practising making bread myself.

That simple pleasure was enough to earn a calendar entry and feature into menu planning for this week since we had another appointment with the GP. When we ran out of bread two days ago, instead of making bread, I decided to pull the emergency bread out of the freezer as a treat since we’d be able to replace it.

Why was this a problem? Because when I went to the same bakery today and asked the same questions (always, always double check just in case a recipe has changed or a product supplier)… this time I was told that it does contain soy protein and that I must have been informed incorrectly last time.

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What!!

In a painful twist of irony, we’d sat eating that same damn bread (from the freezer) at the playground before going to the doctor’s appointment. I had a sinking feeling when I realized that I couldn’t remember if there were 4 slices or 6 slices in the bag I took out of the freezer. Did we eat it yesterday? I honestly don’t recall because it wasn’t on my threat radar and my focus was entirely on the hospital appointment. It does explain an earlier allergy attack recorded in my daily notes that I thought couldn’t be from soy because we’d absolutely definitely had no exposure that week (turns out that was wrong…).

It was hard not to be angry and frustrated when I’d been really specific with my questioning and explaining that it was a food allergy. I’m angry that staff got ingredients wrong when it’s being made on site. I’m angry that the store has made my daughter suffer, not once but twice. Her allergy rash started to present before we even got home and was worse by bed time; her eczema had also started to throw up red warning flags. She was too unsettled to go down for her day nap. The afternoon and evening required topical treatment cream, intensive moisturising cream, and oral medication. It’s not enough to prevent the attack but hopefully it helps take the edge off a little.

In reality, there’s always too much to do as a solo parent to spend more than a few minutes dwelling on the unfairness of another approaching storm. I’m grateful that I was cautious and asked again (so we didn’t end up with a second loaf). I’m grateful that food allergies and eczema aren’t contagious (unlike the 14 days of viral diarrhoea that she was too immuno-compromised to fight off and that had us completely quarantined from close contact leading up to Christmas). I’m grateful that we were able to have a friend over to play this afternoon bringing smiles to her face. I’m grateful that she fell asleep in my arms tonight feeling safe and loved and comforted.

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