Wheat Belly?

 

Someone recently asked me if I had read the book Wheat Belly. 

 

I did my best Mae West impersonation: "Read it?  Honey, I LIVE it."

 

 

The photo above on the left was taken the last time I got glutened.  The photo on the right is me, in the same dress, once the effects of the glutening had passed (it took a few weeks). 

It's a Schar Thing

Bacon, Lettuce, Avocado, Tomato, Onion with Homemade Ranch on Schar Baguette

As someone who loves to cook, I am amazed at my lack of imagination when it comes to making gluten free food that travels; default setting goes straight to sandwiches.

Nothing satisfies like a sandwich.  It's the stuff of which childhood lunch memories are made.  A sandwich is quick, transportable and self-contained. 

For someone with celiac disease, a sandwich is a thing of longing.  It was one of the first and one of the few things I miss.  Not the first; beer being the first.  I can barely type the word 'beer' with out pangs of angst.  Beer first and then, sometimes sandwiches.  See, it takes over.  This blog entry is not about beer.   

I don't miss any particular type of sandwich, it's the comfort, the shape, the familiarity, the ease of making a meal.

Sure I make lettuce wraps now.  Sure I've gotten better at packing left-overs for on the road meals but every now and again I want long for a sandwich.

Many of the sliced gluten free breads leave me cold (and gritty).  I do love Gluten Free Houston's Millet Sour Dough but some sandwiches call for heft like this one:

That picture was taken in La Ferté-Bernard, pre-gluten free me and that is the type of sandwich that comes to me in my dreams.  I thought it was gone from my life forever...

...until my friend found gluten free Schar bread hiding in our local HEB.  She picked up some of their classic white rolls for me to try.  They are wonderful and so I went to buy more.  That's when I found this:

Baguettes!  Gluten free baguettes!  They look and act just like a baguette should!  I've used this bread toasted and slightly warmed.  I've even bitten off a hunk of it right out of the bag.  I may even try to make french toast with it soon.  It's good.  It feels right.  It satisfies my longing.

 

I'm still looking for whole food, grain free options for my dietary mainstays.  But sometimes nothing can beat a Schar thing. 

All Your Labs are Normal

"All your labs are Normal.  May need to do further evaluation if fatigue continues."





This is a doctor's note from 2003. 

Nine years ago.

It's not the first 'normal' report I got from a doctor... it's just the only note I still have.

I started going to doctors after my son was born in 1997 looking for a reason for my debilitating fatigue.  It was always the same response, "All your labs are Normal." 

Actually, they were usually better than normal; they indicated that I was very, very healthy.

But I didn't feel healthy.  I was tired; tired to my bones. 

The docs always appeared to listen intently; asking questions about my everyday life: 

You have two children under two? 
Both your parents just passed away? 
You're managing their estate and working two part-time jobs?

Well, no wonder you're tired!

I remember telling one doctor, "I'm really in tune with my body.  I know there's something else going on."

Years went by.  Years and years of  'Normal' labs.  Years and years of doctors looking at me as if I had a touch of the hypochondria.  Years and years of pushing myself through my daily life. 

It wasn't uncommon for me to sit in the car with my head on the steering wheel, arms drooped in my lap, before I had the energy to lift them to start the engine and drive.

I came up with a phrase to get me to the end of the day: muscle your way through. 

"Come on, Kim, muscle your way through the grocery store."

"Get up and muscle your way past your aching joints."

"Muscle your way through this spin class.  It will make you feel better... eventually." (It never did but I looked better.)

"Muscle your way through the bedtime story."

Stubbornly I propelled myself through the days.

I didn't exactly ignore the increasing pain and fatigue... I just started believing it was 'Normal'. 

"You have young children" turned into, "Well, you're not getting any younger."

This is where the anger starts.

I missed at least fourteen years of my life!

Perhaps if my body hadn't responded so quickly and positively to going gluten-free I would feel differently.  But my symptoms started to lift two days after removing gluten from my diet!

Fourteen prime years.

I try not to take it out on every doctor I see now.  I do, however, see it as my mission to educate them.

They don't seem to like it much.

I started with my internist, who I happen to like:

"When you have a patient presenting with mysterious, seemingly unrelated symptoms, but their standard labs are normal, why don't you run  a panel for celiac disease?  It's just simple blood tests.  The Italians include it in their yearly physicals." 

She didn't even registered a verbal response.  She glazed over more than a Dunkin' donut and hurried to finish the consultation.

Fourteen early years of my children's life!

I said the same thing to my general practitioner.  He replied, "Oh, when I have patients with gastrointestinal problems, I always tell them to cut out dairy.  If that doesn't help I have them cut out wheat."

I reminded him I never had gastrointestinal symptoms before my diagnosis.  He blinked a few times. 
That was his response, a few blinks and a goodbye.

Fourteen precious years!

So why the rant now? 

A blog by the Gluten Dude rekindled my ire last week and sent me searching for evidence; proof that I do, indeed, know my body better than anyone.  That's when I found this note I had filed away.  Like a time capsule waiting to reaffirm what I used to believe deeply: I know my body better than anyone else.

When it comes to being a know-it-all, this note proves that I AM. 

YOU are too.

Let's take it beyond ourselves.  Let's tell everyone we can about celiac disease.  Let's make it a truly 'normal' consideration for ourselves, our loved ones, our doctors and our society to screen for this disease.  It's not some diet fad but the very real cause of what ails many of us.

FOURTEEN FREAKIN' YEARS.

(Can I point out that the doc used a capital N for 'Normal' but not on the word 'need'?  Maybe I'm reading too much into it- but it's as if he wanted to emphasize that everything was ok.  Yes, I'm bitter;  FOUR-teen years.)

Cra-zay for Caprese

 

 



Firm ripe tomatoes, marintated mozzarella balls cut in half, fresh basil.  Stick a toothpick through them.  Drizzle with balsamic vinegar reduction.

That is all.

For real, that's all there is to it.