Part 1: “Is It Just Me? The Day I Realized Something Was Off”

There’s a weird plot twist to this full-time rideshare life I didn’t expect: I think I’m allergic to some of my passengers.

I’m not talking about bad cologne or oversharing small talk. And it’s not all passengers, but when it happens, it’s an obvious event. I’m talking full-on, body-revolting reactions: pressure headaches that throb behind my eyes, throat tightness, random hives, stomach cramps, even light chest pains

It started last year. Subtle at first. A headache here, a tickle in my throat there. I never connected the ailments to one another or to any person being responsible. Then one early morning pick up, my customer got in the car wreaking of cigarettes. No judgement here, I used to smoke years ago. But this day I had to air out the cabin during the entire ride. There was a noxious smell like matches or used firecrackers and then I got horrible cramps wringing my stomach on and off, then a shooting pain in my left chest.  I knew anaphylaxis is a source for concern with allergic reactions. And although I have never had allergies a day in my life, I’ve heard of people developing them with age. So I did what anyone would do—I blamed allergies and hit the pharmacy: antihistamines, sprays, tissues, repeat.

Nothing really worked. The only thing that made it stop? Stopping passengers. So I switched to delivery. Peace returned. No more phantom “pollen”, no more mystery toxins. Just me, some fries, and the open road. So I tried rideshare again after I gave my body a break. And the symptoms returned

That’s when I got serious. I bought a portable air purifier that I wear around my neck like a techno rosary. I started tracking air quality with a reader. And you know what? The thing spikes. It shows something changes when some passengers enter. Unfortunately, the device doesn’t say what—just that the air goes from breathable to “uh oh” real quick.

One time, I got lucky. Noticed some weird reddish dirt on the carpet where a passenger sat. Collected it in a spare condiment cup like a budget scientist. My hope? Get it tested. My reality? Labs don’t work like CSI. You can’t just walk in waving a crusty sample and shout, “Enhance!”

So here I am. Still driving. Still reacting. Still wondering what the hell I’m breathing—and what it’s doing to me long term. I’ve started to seriously think about quitting rideshare altogether, because honestly, no gig is worth losing lung function or screwing up my immune system for.

What would you do? Have you ever had a mystery allergy you couldn’t explain? Did you figure it out? Or did you just change your lifestyle to avoid it?

Because I’m telling you, if this keeps up, I may be handing my keys to the delivery gods and never looking back.

Next week, part 2 Part 2: “Pills, Purifiers, and Paranoia”