I have a girlfriend diagnosed with cholinergic urticaria. There is no cure. There is only pre-emptive treatment which means you have to know when an attack is coming. And, that’s not possible. Even if you could know in advance, there are only over the counter medications. Big pharma hasn’t taken on the task of trying to fix this disorder. And yet. . .
A quick look on Wikipedia says that this is a disease brought on by a rise in the body’s temperature, ie from exercising! That’s right: an allergy to exercising! And it has such an exotic name. Bonus.
What I wouldn’t have given for a note to my gym teacher in high school, “I’m very sorry, please excuse my daughter from PE today and every day. She has cholinergic urticaria which is untreatable and incurable.” No navy blue gym shorts of unfashionable length! With my name in white fabric paint etched across my thigh! No more teachers hollering my name from across the field!
Wait, were they teachers or coaches? Come to think of it, they didn’t do either. They were more like referees or parole officers keeping the potheads from sparkin’ up and too cools from humiliating the nerds. Although most of the too cools got to take cheerleading as a class. And what was that about? A class? For credit? For cheerleading? Seriously, I hope things have changed.
I digress. I feel terrible for and envious of my friend. I really do love to exercise, but I have no time and my butt shows it. The thick layer of dust on my treadmill is testimony of my good intentions. By the time I get home from work I’ve got two hours to do homework with the boys and cook dinner. The idea of 30 minutes on the treadmill is a distant fantasy. Maybe if I get up early…
But really, I sound so whiney about it. Much better to say, “Sorry, I’d love to go for a run along the beach, but I have cholinergic uticaria you know. I have to be careful.”