Hay, not funny!

10 August 2005
Now I happen to suffer from hay fever. My allergy score for Orchard grass is 5. If you know anything about such things, you'll feel very sorry for me, because that magic number basically means that I am severely allergic to grass pollen and will sneeze incessantly, rub my itchy eyes incessantly and struggle to sleep because of discomfort right through the summer, even with maximal application of topical and systemic treatments. (No, not there. Orally. Only the French take everything that way - I jest not.)
The reason I had to suffer? I live in the UK where allergy treatment is hopeless. Now you smart readers will note that I said the reason I had to suffer. Past tense. Why?
Well, I lived in Bermuda for five years and got proper treatment there, in the shape of immunotherapy, whereby the system is gradually desensitised to the allergy causers through a series of injections of increasing strength. The trouble is, the effect gradually wears off over five years or so. Having been back in Scotland for two summers, I have already experienced worse symptoms this year than last.
Ironically, it was a Scottish doctor working in Bermuda who gave me the treatment. He now runs a vineyard in Canada. There's probably some connection which you can supply yourself.
Why am I telling you this? Because I need you to lobby your MP or the British Consel (if you're outside the UK) to secure better allergy treatments in the UK for squirrels. Perhaps we should be less worried about Iraq and more worried about our own squirrels. What do you think? (In case you don't know, in the UK, health budgets, like armed forces budgets, are publically funded).
Thank you. Achoo.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!