And for those of you who are not incredibly familiar with the medical terms let me break this down for you:
No gluten for the rest of my life (think traditional bread, pasta, beer, almost all baked goods, chips, sauces, marinades and everything else that tastes good)
Allergic to the protein in dairy (nope…not lactose intolerant. This is the kind of allergy that even when items are toted as “lactose free” I still can’t have them)
My immune system is attacking my thyroid (just a regular day in my body hating itself apparently…)
Let’s not also forget the endless diagnostic testing, doctors visits, hormone imbalances, vitamin deficiencies, ultrasounds, blood work, supplements, endless label reading and menu-scouting amidst the shock. The first three sentences of this post and all the “fun” that has come with it has really been the reason I’ve been MIA lately. The last two months have SUCKED. Really, truly. They have been hard and sad and beyond frustrating…
I had my first indication that the word “celiac” may enter my universe in early November after a routine doctor’s visit turned into several more doctors visits and an initial diagnosis. The lab results I received kick-started my own little cycle of grief and in perfect Devin fashion it was filled with all the emotions and hatred of not being in control. Honestly I think I skipped right over denial and went straight to being PISSED (might also have been attributed to the fact that I got in a car accident 30 minutes before I got the test results…it’s fine). I said a lot of things that night while I was crying my eyes out that I’m pretty sure God’s going to replay on judgment day and then roll His eyes and say, “You better count your lucky stars I love the crap out of you” and then laugh with me as I go skipping through the gates.
I was heartbroken about the whole thing, about everything it meant for my life and the chaos it would bring into the daily and once mundane task of eating. A task I had to perform daily…and not even daily MULTIPLE times daily just became a obstacle course. All of these thoughts and feelings led me down the path of literal denial, complete and utter denial. I had my mini-meltdown and then I lived in glutened-bliss for the next two months. I read article after article about celiac and its symptoms and informed everyone (mostly myself) in my path that I had NONE of these issues and proceeded to eat pumpkin pie to my heart’s delight. I wasn’t about about to let some pseudo-diagnosis ruin my holiday fare! Continue reading