I was 14 years old, home alone, when my body did something I couldn’t explain.
One moment, I was just walking through the kitchen. The next, I was blacking out. My hands and feet were swelling, my lips and tongue grew thick, my skin itched wildly, and my body felt like it had been invaded.I laid down on the floor, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of what was happening. Then I did the only thing I could think to do — I called a friend. Her mother came over and stayed with me until my grandmother rushed home and took me to the hospital.
They gave me a shot of Benadryl, and slowly the symptoms began to fade. But no one could explain what had happened. I hadn’t eaten anything different. I hadn’t been stung. There was no clear trigger. And yet, my body had clearly launched into some kind of alarm response.
Months — maybe a year — later, it happened again. Same creeping sensation. Same swelling. But this time, we knew what to do.
Benadryl, immediately.
And it worked.
Since that day, I’ve carried Benadryl with me everywhere. Always. Like a quiet insurance policy.It became part of who I was — someone with mysterious reactions, unexplained stomach aches, and symptoms that didn’t fit in tidy diagnostic boxes.
At the time, I was also experiencing severe abdominal pain, and a doctor had put me on a medication that started with an "I" — I wish I remembered the name. They believed the swelling episode might have been a reaction to it, but it was never formally marked down as an allergy.
The reaction passed, but the unease never really did.
For years, I lived with:
It wouldn’t be until decades later, after my diagnoses of EDS (Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome) and Dysautonomia, that I finally heard the words:
Mast Cell Activation Syndrome.And suddenly, everything made sense.
Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) is when your mast cells — a part of your immune system — go rogue. They release too many inflammatory chemicals, like histamine, at the wrong time, in response to things that shouldn't be threats:
Foods, heat, stress, medications, scents, emotions.
It can look like:
It’s underdiagnosed, often mistaken for IBS, anxiety, or “just being sensitive.
”And for people like me — especially with connective tissue disorders like EDS and autonomic issues like Dysautonomia — it’s not uncommon. These three often show up together, like a hidden trio.
It’s only now, in hindsight, that I can see the pattern.
Over the years, so many “random” symptoms — the ones doctors couldn’t explain — may have been MCAS all along. I just didn’t know the name for it. And I was too often dismissed as dramatic, sensitive, or just stressed.
But my body was never lying.
It was trying to survive.And since beginning to heal from Breast Implant Illness, I’ve seen many of those symptoms quiet down. Was the chronic mast cell activation made worse by toxic overload from my implants? Probably. That’s part of the mystery I’m still unraveling.
I no longer rely on just Benadryl. My approach is functional, gentle, and full-body now. Here's what helps me and what I recommend to my clients:
If your body has ever reacted in ways no one can explain… if you've ever been gaslit into thinking it was "just anxiety"... or if you carry emergency meds and no diagnosis — this post is for you.
MCAS is real.
You are not imagining it.
And healing is possible.I’m living proof.
Let’s connect the dots — together.