Auvi-Q Recall…And What It’s Like To Be Tethered to Medicine

First of all, sorry I haven’t written in forever. I think about it a lot, about how much there is to say, and yet, this part of my journey — the part where Xolair makes life easier but not perfect, where pollen is kicking my ass, where I feel the affects of Prednisone for months and yet am healthier than I’ve ever been — it’s all too confusing for me to focus on.

But then the news comes along, first with an article in the NY Times (I won’t even link to it, it broke my soul too much) about how some woman in Portland is warding off allergies by pre-emptively feeding her kid bamba, a noble pursuit minus the fact that it made me feel like shit for still having allergies (EVEN THOUGH I’VE EATEN MY SHARE OF BAMBA AND THERE ARE ALLERGIES TO THINGS THAT AREN’T PEANUTS AND JUST BC YOUR KIDS ATE BAMBA AND DON’T HAVE ALLERGIES DOESN’T MEAN THEY WOULD HAVE MAYBE NEXT TIME READ THE STUDY MORE CAREFULLY BECAUSE NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR PARENTING RULES) and then with the even more devastating news that Auvi-Qs, the epi-pen of the future, has been recalled.

http://www.news.sanofi.us/2015-10-28-Sanofi-US-Issues-Voluntary-Nationwide-Recall-of-Auvi-Q-Due-to-Potential-Inaccurate-Dosage-Delivery

First of all, it’s a bummer that I have to go back to the regular epi-pen, because the one time I needed to use an epi-pen out on the road without the supervision of a doctor AND in an actual life-threatening situation, the Auvi-Q’s voice technology saved me. I was in my office surrounded by coworkers with earphones in, and the thing that perked them up to take me to the hospital was the sound “INJECTION COMPLETE.” I had no breath, no voice to tell them I was in danger, so a regular epi-pen would have stalled the hospital-going process. And given LA traffic and the rule of get to the hospital within about 15 minutes, stalling was not an option.

But more importantly: if you use an Auvi-Q, get an Epi-pen stat

And then the non-PSA reason for this post.

I don’t think of myself as sick. Not usually. And then these things pop up, these things like “tomorrow morning before you even brush your teeth call your doctor to get an epi-pen prescription because your old Auvi-Qs that aren’t recalled expire on 10/31 and the new ones won’t do you much good, and what if you die?” or like earlier this morning, when I went for a walk/jog and had to figure out how to carry my Auvi-Qs and benadryl sans purse. Most people can just take their keys and phone and stick them in one of those runner bands, but I don’t have a runner band for my medicine, and if I need it and I’m without it, that’s life or death.

I’m tethered to this medicine. I’m blessed because there is medicine, and it’s not lost on me that if I had these allergies in the olden days survival of the fittest would have meant I’d be long gone. I’m so grateful there are alternatives like Epi-pen. What a wonderful world of choices and pharmaceutical competition we live in. What medical privilege.

But there’s a harsh reality.

I can die at any moment, not just in the ways everyone else can, but in those ways and then from stray horseradish or whatever other non-poison poisons there are.

Thank you, Sanofi, for the humbling experience.

And hey, do better next time, k? Because it’s late and windy and I want to fade into sleep without confronting the fragility of my human experience.