FROM FOOD ALLERGY FIGHTER TO FUTURE ALLERGIST

Sometimes in medicine, you are blessed enough to watch a story come completely full circle. Years ago, two little boys named Alex and Kayden became my first peanut oral immunotherapy patients—and the first peanut OIT patients in San Antonio.

Food allergy OIT was still in its infancy. Very few allergists were doing it, and embarking on this journey required courage—not only from these children and their parents, but from me as their physician. We were treating life-threatening food allergies in a way that was still very new.

I understood the possibilities. I also understood the enormous responsibility. So I prayed. Every single day. I prayed for wisdom when the decisions were difficult. I prayed for God to guide me. And I repeatedly asked Him to allow me to be His hands and feet while caring for these children. Then Alex’s mother, Stacey, gave me a letter. In it, she recounted something Alex himself had said about me: “You have part of the hands of God to heal people.”

I have carried those words with me ever since. Because this little boy had absolutely no idea what I had been praying. I had been asking God to let me be His hands. And somehow, one of my little patients saw His hands in mine. ❤️

Alex and Kayden persevered through that first journey together. And what started with those two brave little boys grew. More children came. More families took that leap. And they became what I have always lovingly called: My Food Allergy Fighters.

We celebrated them like superheroes because, to me, that’s exactly what they were. After OIT, Alex wrote me his own letter: “I’m so glad I went through peanut OIT. It’s changed my life.” He described being able to sit next to someone eating peanuts. He could fly on an airplane without worrying about peanuts being served. He remembered when he couldn’t tolerate even the smell of peanuts—and then he was eating them every morning.

But his mother’s letter contained one more little prediction. Alex had told me that he wanted to grow up to become a doctor like me. His mom wrote: “You might want to keep an eye on him. He may have to take over your practice one day.” Well, Stacey… I kept an eye on him.

Fast-forward all these years. Alex still wants to become an allergist. And this summer, that little superhero came back to my practice… wearing scrubs and working beside me.

But that wasn’t even the most meaningful part. I watched Alex sit with children with food allergies and their worried parents and share something I could never give them in quite the same way: his own experience.

He could look at them and essentially say, “I’ve been where you are.” He remembered the fear. He remembered the treatments. He remembered what it was like to be that child. And he could tell them what life looked like on the other side.

I watched one of my original Food Allergy Fighters counsel families, reassure frightened parents and give children the courage to take that leap themselves. And suddenly I realized what I was witnessing.

The child I once encouraged was encouraging another child. The family we once reassured was helping reassure another family. One Food Allergy Fighter was reaching back to give courage to the next.

Perhaps that is how a calling grows. We plant seeds in medicine without ever knowing where they will lead. And sometimes, if we’re incredibly blessed… we get to watch those seeds grow up right in front of us.

From a little boy dressed like a superhero… to one of San Antonio’s first peanut OIT patients… to one of my original Food Allergy Fighters… to a young man helping the next generation… and perhaps someday, an allergist himself.

Alex, watching the young man you’ve become has been one of those extraordinary full-circle gifts of practicing medicine. And if you really do take over my practice someday… your mom called it first.