Anyone who has spent a significant amount of time with me -and by significant, I mean 30 minutes or more- knows that I sneeze often and I sneeze in multiples. My record exceeds 20 in-a-row of this blasted bodily function that almost always manages to steal my breath. It's been described as "painful" (sometimes), "cat-like" (thanks?), "darling" (hardly!) and "wimpy" (you try it), but never-the-less, it's part of the unique nasal (mal)function that God chose to bestow upon me. Guinness-worthy sneeze attacks probably rate somewhere near the faucet-like nasal action that provokes a rather frequent retelling of how the 5-year-old me once announced to an entire wedding party that, "I got snot!" Let's just say... sinuses ain't my thing!
Quite frankly, there are days when I absolutely HATE my allergies. In fact, a few days ago when I walked around my office looking like I'd just gone through a bad breakup -puffy red eyes, tear stained cheeks, tissues coming out of every nook and cranny- that was one of those days. But then there are times, like now, when I realize, accept and am somewhat thankful that they are just another way God managed to set me apart. (How many people can say they reacted to 60 of 66 tested allergens? Granted that was back in '95 before all this new-fangled technology managed to find a gazillion more possible reasons for my skin to turn red and itchy and for breathing to become and Olympic event... but who's counting?)
In some crazy, roundabout way, I suppose I'm saying what we all know... Everyone is different. I may question why I can almost sneeze on cue, or why my eyes are two different shapes, or why my hair frizzes no matter what they weather or any other aspect of what makes me who I am. But quite frankly, I choose to believe that there is reason in everything. There's a purpose for every talent, for every flaw, for everything friendship, for every breakup, for every scar... you get it.
I'm the type of person that needs reason. I crave closure. But as a good friend recently pointed out, if you have closure for everything in life, what's the point in continuing to live? I comfort myself with reassurances that I'm just not meant to know everything - yet! Does it really matter why my left foot is bigger than my right; that my 2nd toe extends farther than my 1st? Do I really have to understand why my relationship with friend A is totally different than with friend B? Why I am geared to try so hard in certain areas (MOST sports, writing, relationship building) and couldn't care less about others (science, golf)? Does it really matter?
Nah... But there again, I guess agonizing over wanting to know everything is just another one of those traits that make me... Me. :-)
Please excuse me while I go find a tissue...
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