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.)