How to save a life.

Growing up I was probably one of those kids picked most likely to live in a bubble. It seemed as though I had everything, a physical disability, a learning disability. Asthma. And countless amount of allergies. I can't recall the number of times I sat inside trying to catch my breath after a couple of minutes out in the backyard. The pollen, the oak, the flowers, the bugs. You name it, I seemed allergic to it.If those weren't enough, pile on the food allergies to beef, pork and dairy, and it may seem to you I was a pretty sick kid.

I assure you I wasn't. Thankfully none of the listed above where serious enough to kill me. Well as long as it was in moderation's that was. Felt horrible, Check. Get sick. Check. Break out, swell. Check. But nothing was going to send me rushing to the hospital in fear of my life.  Well all except one.


Penicillin and molds Yes that's right, if anyone wanted to know how to kill me off, you now know. I am told it wouldn't take long either. Good and useful information if not to me, then perhaps to an enemy maybe?

I remember my parents would buy me bracelet/necklace after bracelet/necklace replacing them when I lost them, it wore down to the point it was unreadable. Or I broke out thanks to a nickel allergy-told you I was one of those- I hated wearing them I admit. I am pretty sure I even lost a couple on purpose. I didn't need one more thing to tell the world I stood out. And I always figured someone would be there to tell them right? I made sure to tell anyone who hung out with me that I was allergic to them so I was covered. Truly I didn't see what the big deal about wearing one was.

But then I grew up, and I started working. And I had to take metro on a daily basis. And the whole sniper thing hit the area. And it truly made me start thinking. I reevaluated the whole wearing a medical alert thing. I went out and bought a cheap one. It broke. I replaced it. That one too broke. As did the three that followed. And before I knew it, I once again said screw it and stopped wearing them. I started joking I was going to get it tattooed across the inside of my left wrist...and actually got no laugh back. My mom, who isn't the fondest of the tattoos and pretty much cringes whenever my little sis comes home with a new one just sat there smiled and said. 'You know that isn't a bad idea.' My husband, and even dad-who likes them less than my mom-both agreed.

It was a joke. Really it was. Because knowing my damn luck I would be allergic to the ink.And I was pretty sure I would chicken out, and just the thought of getting one for medical reasons seemed kind of ridiculous really.

It has been a running joke of ours ever since.

Until today, when I came across a report about the latest tattoo trend: Medical Alert tattoos. Mostly by those who are diabetic. And while they said medical association does not totally encourage those with medical needs to get a tattoo specifically for this, they said they couldn't deny that it just may save a life or two. 'You can't lose a tattoo, you can't break a tattoo.'They did make sure to say a bracelet is still what most look for, at the same time they can't ignore the sign if it is just right. And where does the medic interviewed recommend?

'The inside of your left wrist. Medics are trained throughout the world to look there first.'

Maybe my idea wasn't so ridiculous after all.