Attending a Chicago Cubs baseball game is a dream come true for a seven-year-old baseball fan living near the Windy City. But when you’re a seven-year-old baseball fan with a peanut allergy, Wrigley Field isn’t just “The Friendly Confines” in which to enjoy America’s favorite pastime—it’s also a potential minefield of dangerous peanut residue.

Charlie is that seven-year old. He sits in front of me today, grinning from ear-to-ear because he knows he will soon be watching his beloved Cubbies LIVE IN ACTION! He keeps wiggling while sitting on the exam table, unable to contain his excitement. Across the room, Charlie’s mother rapidly taps her fingers together, her anticipation tempered by a twinge of anxiety. Today is Charlie’s food allergen desensitization graduation, a milestone that’s been in the works since he first stepped foot into my office over a year ago.

Before he visited my clinic, Charlie had been rushed to the emergency room multiple times due to accidental peanut exposure. So, it seems nothing short of a miracle that today, he will eat twenty-four peanuts in my office! How can this be? Well, Charlie has been pursuing a program of oral immunotherapy (OIT) to gradually increase his tolerance to peanuts. After today’s medically supervised graduation is complete, he will be able to eat peanuts and walk confidently into “peanuty” situations, instead of avoiding them entirely. This is no small feat, considering the restrictive lifestyle Charlie was leading before therapy.

Until he began treatment, Charlie’s parents took a commonly-advised approach to handling his peanut allergy: strict avoidance. Did it keep Charlie safe? Sure, but it also led to lifestyle limitations for both him and his family. There were school activities he could not participate in, places he could not go. Grocery shopping was ominous: Would they miss something on a label? Birthday parties and eating out felt dangerous, rather than fun. And a Cubs game? Out of the question. It was simply too anxiety-provoking.

The long road from avoidance to tolerance ends today! Charlie’s exam room is filled with balloons and homemade signs, and my medical assistants poke their heads in the door as they walk past to offer their congratulations. In the corner sits a basket of peanut M&M’s and Reese’s candies next to an ENORMOUS golden trophy in the shape of (you guessed it!) a peanut. To say Charlie and his family are ready for this day is an understatement—his freedom has been a long time coming, and they can taste it.