Allergies, Death, FORBIDDEN LONGING

by Brian Hioe

Sometimes I wonder if my fatalistic attitude on life was shaped, to some degree, by the numerous deadly allergies I have. After all, it’d be rather easy for me to drop dead, simply by eating the wrong thing. 

Recently, I accidentally picked up some snacks off of the bar at my collective space and started eating them without thinking to look at the label. Somehow I ate half the bag before I noticed I felt allergic. One nauseous night later, I thought to myself, “So. That’s what peanut butter tastes like.” Now I know. And it nearly killed me to obtain that forbidden knowledge. 

In Hong Kong in 2019, back when I was reporting on the protests there, I popped into a 7-Eleven to get breakfast before the National Day protest march, anticipating that I would be running from tear gas and riot cops at some point in the next few hours. It was standard Hong Kong breakfast fare, I forget what exactly–just I turned out to be allergic to some ingredient. Right away I found myself choking, unable to breathe, and wracked with nausea and intestinal cramps, all at once. 

I struggled to keep pace that morning but luckily, it was just a bite, so the effects were limited. A few hours later, once we really did have to start running from the cops, the adrenaline kicked in and the allergies receded. That’s what Epipens are, actually—just shots of adrenaline.