Janine Flannery’s son has multiple severe food allergies and EoE. His high school graduation is just months away and she’s focused on fine tuning his allergy ‘survival skills’ so he’s well prepared for a rich, full, and safe college experience. Follow her letting go journey, from diagnosis to these final months of high school. It’s full speed ahead to move-in day…

By Guest Author: Janine Flannery, The Allergy Aspect

The countdown to my son’s college launch next fall has taken up quiet residence in the pit of my stomach.

As the parent of a child with multiple severe food allergies and EoE, I feel like I’m racing against the calendar, trying to make sure every survival skill he’ll need to stay safe is solidly transferred—for wherever he lands.

We learned about his allergies 17 years ago, when he was still an infant. One of the first foods our pediatrician suggested was banana. I remember the week we were introducing it: I’d drop him off at daycare with breast milk and a jar of banana baby food. The staff would report back that he was doing well—though they noted he was spitting up more than usual, likely adjusting to digesting the new solid food.

That following weekend at home, I mashed up a fresh banana, and everything changed. His face and eyes swelled. He turned red and was covered in hives. I quickly figured a bath would help clean-up his face, clear his eyes. But he didn’t improve. It wasn’t until I lifted him out of the tub that he became unconscious, limp in my arms.

We rushed him to the hospital.

That day I first experienced my son in anaphylaxis, something we’ve experienced with many foods, many times since that day. The fear of a reaction stays with you, though you try to push it down, away from conscious thought.

Since then, we’ve spent years gradually handing over the reins of food allergy responsibility. Teaching. Modeling. Practicing. Always with an eye on future independence, on college.

But now, the future’s almost here. Are we there yet?

I question if we’ve done enough. I see areas where we could do more, and we will before he’s fully on his own.

For years, since preschool, I kicked off every new school year with a detailed email to teachers and staff—laying out his allergens, listing EoE triggers, describing past reactions, and noting upcoming medical appointments. I’d attach a recent photo, highlight the risk of food-based science and art projects, and try to help them understand how they can help keep him safe.

But this year, he’s a high school senior.

I didn’t send the email.

Old habits die hard.

The ‘not doing’ was almost harder than the doing for me. It took conscious self-restraint to not send it. It felt weird – a parenting free fall moment that was both liberating and scary at the same time.

We’re deep into the stage of learning-by-doing. There’s also a sense of relief to finally be here, on the cusp of more independence, with his college launch less than a year away.

Progress hasn’t been linear. From the outside, our journey might look slow, maybe even glacial. But I see the quiet wins. I see the confidence building.

Two years ago, we took our first international trip: ten days in France, soaking up history, architecture, and art. Notice I didn’t say food. We ate to live—not lived to eat—on that trip.

I had one goal: for him to eat safely at two restaurants over the entire trip. Out of 25-30 meals and countless snacks, that was it. My goal felt almost embarrassingly small at the time. I remember him saying, on the way to our first dinner out, “It doesn’t matter if the chef can make something—I’m fine bringing my own food.” But the chef did make something. Safe. Delicious. I saw his mood lift as he ate. Later he said it wasn’t “worth all the fuss,” but I knew better. That dinner was a door opening.

Fast forward to this summer: an 8-day domestic trip to San Diego and Los Angeles. He ate almost every meal out, except breakfast, in restaurants. With confidence. No issues. Equal Eats chef cards (in multiple languages) and Spokin’s reviews have been game changers — tools that help us navigate and widen his world.

The last couple years we finally explored Chipotle. Honestly, we should have done it sooner—very few of the Top 9 allergens are present. My husband and I checked out multiple locations first, trying to protect him from the disappointment of another “no.” But it works for him. And now it’s part of his rotation, using keep-safe strategies we’ve created together. Not all locations are equal, of course, but he’s learned to assess and choose wisely.

With college move-in day on the horizon, we continue to seize opportunities for my son to practice advocating for himself. A goal we have once college applications are complete and submitted, is expanding his options for dining out, where he does the planning and advocating. It helps that he’s surrounded himself with good friends — ones I trust would have his back in an emergency. That tells me he’ll build the right kind of circle in college, too.

Still, there are skill gaps we need to close. My college-launch plan looks something like this:

1. Medication Management:

My son’s good about carrying his emergency medications, but I want him to build the habit of checking expiration dates and taking the lead on refills for his go-bag. I’ve been on top of keeping it all up-to-date and stocked for years and now it’s his turn. He’ll handle the next epinephrine refill solo, plus he’ll go to his next allergist appointment to arrange his next Dupixent refill, so it’s ready to go.

2. Meal Prep Survival Skills:

I need to teach him how to put together a few simple meals in the event the dining hall closes and he needs to fuel a late-night study session. So far, he’s not been that interested in learning cooking skills, so we have a few basic, ‘learn to cook’ sessions ahead of us. We’ll hopefully find a way to have some fun with this.

3. Emergency Planning:

My husband or I have always been the one using the findERnow app while traveling. He’ll need to know how to use it, too. We’ll practice together for the next months, whenever we find ourselves away from home base.

4. Alcohol Awareness:

This one’s tricky. He’ll only be 18 when he heads to college, but we all know how college works. I’d rather him be informed than experiment blindly. We’ve started discussing allergy-safe alcohol options and using resources like this article on “Food Allergies & Alcohol—Staying Safe (Not Sorry)” to teach about pitfalls and workarounds.

This is the game plan — for now.

The goal isn’t perfection. It’s being risk aware and ready to handle an emergency if (when?) it happens.

We’re getting there. He’ll be ready.

He’s Almost Ready: Preparing My Food Allergic Teen for College

1. Medication Management:

2. Meal Prep Survival Skills:

3. Emergency Planning:

4. Alcohol Awareness:

Related Reading: Food Allergic Life & College

Leave a Reply Cancel reply