Background

Search This Blog

Pages

Friday, November 23, 2012

Life Changes......

Do you believe in things such as palm reading? I remember in middle school, a classmate looked at my palm and told me my life line was "cut off"....symbolizing a "cut off" life. And when you look at that life line, it stretches down my palm, but another unknown line clearly intersects it, forming a perfect T. The life line stops right there.

From that moment, I truly always believed that my life would be shorter than average. In fact, I am actually surprised I've made it to 40. Though, it's no surprise that beginning January, midway into my 39th year, things started going downhill.

It started with the eyesight. Oh YES...the dreaded eyesight!! When the optometrist said, "BIFOCALS", I said, "Nuh huh! MY MOTHER has bifocals..NOT ME!!" But when they put those suckers on my face and presented some text, I couldn't deny the fugly truth.

Bifocals it was.

A few months later (and many blood tests later), it was PCOS and insulin resistance.

WOW. Insulin resistance. That would entail learning how to eat differently.

I guess it may not have been so bad if we were like a "normal" household. Cooking meals is a rarity. Ever since I was pregnant with my daughter, I've become extremely picky and sensitive to "textures" of food, smells, sights, etc.


My OBGYN sent me to a gastro because I had been experiencing some weird painful cramping on my sides after I eat. Doctor suggested IBS, but suggested the wonderful colonoscopy. He added the endoscopy, as well, since I do experience the reflux.

By the time the procedure rolled around, I had reached the 40 mark.

Biopsy from the endoscopy came back as CELIAC DISEASE.

Oh yes.

CELIAC DISEASE.

My mouth dropped open.

Where in the HELL did that come from?? I didn't even know I was being tested for that.


But....that's what it was. The villa were all blunted and that explained the low levels of iron and vitamin D.

Beautiful.

My first shopping trip after I was brave enough to go gluten-free resulted in tears in the middle of the store.

What a slow, complicated process of learning and, honestly, unlearning.

I became fed up, gave up, and restarted 4 weeks later.

Now I am nearly 2 weeks out of gluten free. It's been hell. And I am not going to lie about that.

There is nothing fun about this. There is nothing YUM about this. Quite honestly, I am disgusted by the food that have been made "gluten-free" such as breads, cookies, crackers, etc.

There is NOTHING good about them. In fact, even the cookies don't leave me saying, "Ugh...I just ONE MORE, please!". Nope.

I've tried the homemade baked goods from a local chef at a country club even.

Nope. Not my thing. Horrific.

So, pretty much, I'm left with eating things that are natural. Fruits, vegetables, and meats. In theory, dairy should even be left out until the intestines heal, but I don't think I can deprive myself of that.

But my one LOVE LOVE LOVE is GF Mongolian Beef from PF Changs.

I don't understand why people decide to go gluten free when they aren't medically obligated to it. I really just don't understand and I HATE THOSE people. I would completely trade places with them in a second. There is NOTHING fun about this lifestyle. NOTHING.

And let me be the first to tell you, it pisses off family members who don't understand the disease.

I experienced it first hand at Thanksgiving yesterday when my step-father swore at me with a "Je*** Ch****" as if I was just being "picky". When he "apologized", I said that he was mean and he yelled again with, "I just said I was sorry! What the hell else can I do?"

It's not an easy road. The rocky road I was trying to mend from the past with him has since uprooted again. My heart hurts and I just don't know if it can heal again. This is my health. This isn't about high school issues in the past of missing curfew, etc. This is about MY HEALTH. And I have two kids. I am 40 years old and I am not going to sit there and take it from him.

Ironically, it was my schizophrenic uncle that was the most understanding of them all.

Oh, how I miss my days as a child spending my time at my grandparents' (my uncle lived there, too).