My anniversary with celiac

with my one year anniversary of living with celiac fast approaching I was driven to become overwhelmingly nostalgic and this is what prompted the following:

My life before celiac disease-that is my life pre diagnoses was a trail of bread crumbs that kept leading no where.

Frustrating was the cystic acne that came out of no where, one that defied acutane and put the fine people of proactive to shame.

Saddening was the depression and anxiety disorders that popped up shortly after high school. Being sure that it must be the case because you did in fact just lose your father to a severe illness so depression isn’t that weird right? Waiting 6 months to see a psychiatrist to treat it was even more upsetting and then finding out you didn’t need all those little white pills years down the road was infuriating.

My anorexic appearance was disgusting, managing to lose 25 pounds without trying (something some women can only dream of) thisΒ  making me further self-conscious on top of feeling like a psycho with a bad complexion. Nothing alleviated this, I became at regular at peters drive in hopes milkshakes would allow me to fit into my jeans again. Gym rat I was no more in fear of running more pounds away. I never regained those pounds until I was diagnosed.

Hospital scares plagued my life, all because after your 8 am history class you find yourself with rectal bleeding. You go to emerg but no x-rays, blood work, samples find anything. It must “have been something poorly prepared” they’d say. Pfft try there was gluten in the food you ate and it’s killing you from the inside out (no advice I ever heard from the ER doctors).

Until that fateful day your family doctor finally thinks to order the blood test that will be your saving grace from the hell your life has become. Party hardy, go eat the last of your nibs, mini donuts and McCain oven curly fries because it will be your last.

With the celiac box ticked on the lab req you head to the lab with a heavy heart that lies in two worlds. The first world where you hope it is celiac so they will finally know what’s wrong with you and this can all stop and the second world where your scared shitless (pardon the pun) that your life of loving food is over forever.

Positive test results? One terrible colonoscopy/endoscopy and a gastroenterologist that seems a tad too thrilled to break the news to you and I start to bawl still slightly drugged and starved from the procedure. I still hate the nurse who insisted I have the arrowroot cookie and apple juice post testing as the truck was covered in it on the ride home later that afternoon.

One year later I look back at my life pre-celiac and smile, hell I even laugh. This laughter? Pure happiness that my new life began at the GI clinic when it did. Why so thrilled? because I’m a healthier, stronger, heavier and positive me. My problems pre celiac were frustrating and infuriating but they are far behind me. And the food? Friggen delicious.

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