Back in May of 2015, I had an endoscopy and found out I had celiac disease. (silent sobs) I've avoided gluten ever since. My dessert days are drastically different now.
This past fall was Hell for me. It's a long story, and it has only been a few days since my 'I'll be brief' resolution. I am not ready to break that promise yet. Let me just sum it up by saying that I barely slept for 3 long months. I could fall asleep easily, but I often would not stay asleep for very long. I would be ready to drink Lake Michigan in the middle of the night.
There were other issues. You can connect the dots here. It was a waiting game. Waiting for my body to be ready to relax. By the time I could fall sleep, it was usually time to start the day. Days of sleep deprivation strung together were becoming my norm. I was a mess.
I called my GI. The person who answered the phone (who should be relieved of employment at that office) said my issues weren't related to celiac disease. I would have to be doubled over puking and in pain to suspect gluten. I saw my OB. I saw an allergist. I saw my general practitioner. I was tested for thyroid and diabetes. Nothing.
I finally scheduled an appointment at the GI. He asked about gluten, but I insisted that I wasn't getting gluten in my diet. He and I discussed how my mind occasionally races in the middle of the night. Anxiety and motherhood. 6 kids. 6 busy schedules. Coach felt strongly that I just needed to stop worrying about things. Stop waking up to pee and allowing my mind to take off.
I HATED THIS MINDSET. I bristled whenever Coach tried to convince me that I just needed to relax. I am NOT a worry wart.
The GI doc ordered lab work. A week later I got around to getting the blood drawn. Dumb to wait, I know but there was a stomach bug, a kitchen remodel, etc. Remember? The day before Thanksgiving I called the doctor to see if they got the results from my blood work. I was strung out. Missing sleep and fearing I was losing my mind.
The results were in. Some number that starts with a TI was a 9. It was supposed to be between 0 and 3. My blood had 3 times the acceptable levels of gluten. I was shocked. How? I thought I was so careful.
Inadvertent gluten. I saw a nutritionist. I have learned to get better about watching my labels. My oatmeal, that was once certified gluten free, was no longer certified. Now that was just plain mean. I did my homework back in 2015. These food people get to change their labels, their equipment, their recipes? BULL SHIT!
So food that says 'gluten free' like Cheerios, is really not safe for me. It needs to be 'certified gluten free.' Oh, don't get me started on the gluten free wanna be's. Cheerios is catering to them, and messing with me in the process. (Sorry, Cheerios. You are not alone). I wasn't even eating cheerios regularly. It's just an example.
|My mom makes almost all|
of the desserts. I will have
to be committed to making
one next year. Then I can eat
most of it myself. Ah, gluttony!
Limits suck (like TRYING TO LIMIT BLOG LENGTH)- especially when it comes to dessert. And no, this was not the family drama ordeal that I have dangled before you like a forbidden Christmas cookie. That is another story. Oh, the good news is I am sleeping again (except when I am on prednisone).