Y’all remember my Double Stuf Oreo obsession, right? Right up there with my love for Jolly Rancher Jelly Beans? Serious, serious, forever kinda love.
NO Trader Joe’s. Just, no. via
We all have that extremely unhealthy treat that is our weakness. I’m talking to you, gummy bear-lover. And YOU, the one who never lets the Reese’s run dry. We all have a treat in our lives that is worth the calories. Calories? What calories? A guilty pleasure. The kind that’s worth it, no matter what…and actually has the ability to turn your day around. A best friend, really. Ya with me?
Now. Just imagine being told that you are NEVER able to have that one thing EVER AGAIN. Under no circumstance. Not a crumb, not a lick. Don’t even kiss your husband or child after they enjoy it, for fear of leftover deliciousness on their lips. Goodness gracious, full on visual focus would even be questionable. Never again, says the doctor (armed with significant test results with your name on them).
April 18th was the day that I was handed such fate. The day my life was realized as Double Stuf Oreo-less until the end of time. No more Oreos, pizza, bread, beer, pasta…the list goes infinitely on…as I once knew it. April 18th was the day that both confirmed Celiac Disease and ROCKED.MY.WORLD. Because what the crap is gluten and why is it in everything?
About one year ago, I started to have strange symptoms. Symptoms that have led us on quite the medical journey. A journey that continues to puzzle and test me and mine on the daily. Doctors, too…they’re still confused. But our bank account? No confusion there. Must.stop.now.
The details of my symptoms, tests, and results are junk for another day – primarily because I’ve already lost half of you and my story hasn’t even started ;)
Try to bear with me (via)
In summary, it went something like this….
-August 2013…extremely sensitive skin from ribcage down on right side of body. Rash. Phantom baby kicking. Only feeling it at night, every single night. No real variation from day to day. No noticeable changes related to food or drink. No pain, but just not right. Not.Right.
-Many tests and doctor visits later…Mama needs her gall bladder out. Brother and father both had theirs out this year, too – so why not?! Let’s do it right before Christmas 2013, shall we? Done and done. Surgeon threw in a cosmetic bonus that’s, too, a post for another day!
-January…same symptoms, no change. And February and March and shoot…it wasn’t my gall bladder.
-April – let’s throw in an upper GI endoscopy for good measure. Wouldn’t want to miss an ulcer or something more serious (already had ultrasounds, CT scan, blood work, major surgery, and a partridge in a pear tree). “We’re going to biopsy for Celiac Disease.” Celiac Disease? What the hell is Celiac Disease?! I, naturally, cry “JERKY DOCTOR WHO WANTS TO BLEED ME DRY FOR A RIDCULOUS, UNNECESSARY BIOPSY,” until…”Ma’am, your results were positively positive for Celiac Disease. Let’s have a blood test to back it up.”
-April 18th. Celiac Disease it is. 30 minutes on the phone with GI doctor discussing the new life that I have no choice but to lead. FOREVER.
-April 20th was Easter, but for me it was the Last Supper.
-Monday, April 21st – the first day of the rest of my life…gluten freaking free.
My last hurrah beer with the hubs at Coleman Public House. Go big or go home.
Stay tuned for what the heck all of this means, how it may impact Max, what I have learned thus far, and how sensitive (read: insensitive?) I have found Charleston’s bars and restaurants. Because, YES – I AM one of THOSE people asking for clarification regarding marinades and cooking techniques and sighing when the waiter/waitress knows nothing of the sort. I need the gluten free menu and, believe me, it is NOT by choice. I am “one of THOSE people” and I am not going to apologize. After all, don’t you think I’m the one who deserves the apology?