I was 11 years old, rockin' Limited Too, and on a mission to find sea glass along the Jersey Shore when I broke out in hives for seemingly no apparent reason. I remember feeling cold (it was early October), and out of nowhere, I began to itch.
Curious, I inspected my hands and discovered they were covered in angry red bumps that were slowly crawling up my arm. I ran back to the house where, terrified, I showed my parents the itchy welts which now covered my hands, feet, calves, and forearms. I was met with a hug and, "Oh, this happens to your cousin Liz and your aunt whenever they swim. It's probably just from the salt water," from my mom. She gave me some Benadryl and a blanket and I slept off the reaction.
The following winter, sporadic hives would appear if my bare hands touched the snow or, weirder yet, if I held cold items in the frozen-food section of the supermarket. Although there was a pattern forming, it didn't really make sense, and for the most part, I just shrugged it off. This stage wouldn't last for long.