About thirteen months ago, I knew something wasn't right in my body. . .
Due to stomach issues throughout my life, I had an upper endoscopy and biopsy completed during my sophomore year of college. One of the several biopsies tested positive for Celiac Disease, but my doctor said that the villi of my intestines were intact. He also said that the results of the biopsy show that I could have the beginning stages of Celiac Disease and that it may or may not worsen throughout my life. Although one biopsy was positive for Celiac, my blood work was not. My doctor also said, "Just don't have a muffin at every meal." I tried to go gluten-free in college for two weeks, unaware of all of the possible cross-contamination issues in the college cafeterias. My stomach issues didn't improve during that time, so I went back to eating gluten.
From sophomore year on, I always had a sneaking suspicion that Celiac Disease would play a part in my future. I had learned to deal with my stomachaches and pains. I got used to looking pregnant after eating anything. Many of my friends got used to me saying, "I hate my stomach," frequently. I complained. . .a lot. I was tired all of the time. I didn't know that what I was experiencing wasn't "normal."
In late March of 2013, I went to my primary care physician, and asked her to run the Celiac Disease blood work panel. I explained to her how I had been feeling and that I always knew this was a possibility. When my doctor called me with the results, I was in a Target with horrible reception. I got into my car, and I heard the voicemail sound. I listened to the message. My doctor said that the results of the Celiac Disease panel indicated that I am positive for Celiac Disease. I left the parking lot, and I drove to my favorite frozen yogurt place. I cried the entire car ride, and I kept my sunglasses on in the frozen yogurt store. I paid, and then went back into the car and cried some more. I was mostly upset that I potentially ruined my body and any future chance of getting pregnant. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but that was (one of) my first thought(s).
I made an appointment with the same gastroenterologist I saw during my sophomore year of college. He came into the room, and said, "So, you're on a gluten free diet?" I told him that I wasn't, and he appeared confused. He reviewed the results of the old biopsy and my current blood work and said that I should've been on a gluten-free diet since then. I KNOW he did not tell me that during my sophomore year of college. I then asked a series of follow-up questions:
Me: So, when there's a luncheon at work, can I just take the bread off of the sandwich and eat the middle?
Doctor: No
Me: Can I still bake with regular flour?
Doctor: Yes, but you can't eat it.
Me: Right. Will I have to be gluten-free forever?
Doctor: Yes, at least until they come out with a pill that will allow you to eat gluten.
Doctor: Yes, at least until they come out with a pill that will allow you to eat gluten.
I left the doctor with my mother, and I was angry. I wasn't ready to go gluten-free yet. My mother and I went to a bakery, and I had the last gluten-ful cupcake of my life. Then, we met my father at an Italian restaurant for dinner. I had chicken parmigiana, ziti, bread, and zeppoles. I gluten-loaded. I didn't feel sick. I felt how I always felt after I ate - bloated - but, again, I didn't know that wasn't how I was supposed to feel.
I considered how I was going to go gluten-free. Would I just start the following morning? Would I slowly eliminate gluten meal by meal? I don't remember what I ate the day after that big Italian dinner (gluten brain fog, perhaps?), but I do know that I didn't begin my gluten-free journey until the following day - Saturday, April 13th, 2013.
On that Saturday, I went through my cabinets, refrigerator, and freezer and made bags of gluten-ful food to give away. I had decided that I needed to go gluten-free ASAP; I couldn't draw out the process by slowly eliminating gluten meal by meal. I looked at my bare kitchen, and I knew that I had to go food shopping. I spent hours food shopping, checking every label of every product. I was happily surprised at the amount of gluten-free options at my local supermarket. I bought a lot of the gluten-free "replacement" products, and I soon realized that was not a great idea. I needed to include more fruits and vegetables into my lifestyle, not gluten-free cookies. Everyone needs a good brownie or cookie now and then, but not all the time!
Throughout the past year, I've learned how to be gluten-free in a gluten-ful world. I've learned that it was far from normal to have almost daily stomachaches; I can count the number of stomachaches I've had in the past year on one hand. I rarely complain about aches and pains. I have more energy. I know what restaurants I can trust when they say they have a "gluten-free menu." Some days are harder than others, but I've learned to always have a gluten-free snack in my bag.
I used to eat a lot of gluten. I was a glutton for gluten. I'm now an ex-glutton for gluten. To celebrate my gluten-free anniversary, I'm off to the bakery. . .the local gluten-free bakery.
Now that my stomach issues have been figured out, I guess I can't use, "My stomach hurts," as an excuse to not go to the gym. I should go there too.
Talk soon,
Mollie
The Ex-Glutton for Gluten
