Getting UNsick

Well, I'm now on my 3rd week of living gluten-free. Wait... maybe I should give you a little back story here, so you can understand exactly HOW much this gluten-free lifestyle has impacted me.

I've always been sick. All my friends were used to me saying, "I feel sick." all the time. And not the "I'm gonna throw uuuaaaagghhhhhhhh" kinda sick. The "my lungs hurt and I can't breathe" kinda sick. I had asthma, but I was always having trouble with it. I had rotating bouts of pneumonia, strep throat and bronchitis all throughout high school. I missed 63 days of my senior year. I got pregnant after high school, had a baby and my body went from bad to worse. Over the following 9 years, my lungs became progressively worse, my immune system just seemed to shut down. My body ached, my brain was depressed, my lungs hurt. I was a mess.

Last year, I finally graduated from college with a degree in healthcare, in the field I've dreamed about for years. I got my dream job at a children's hospital (my DREAM job), and being around all the lovely little germ factories made me even sicker. I'd only been at my job, working in the hospital for ONE MONTH before I was hospitalized. They attributed my symptoms to my asthma, my exposure to all kinds of flora in the hospital and poor medication control.

Following my hospitalization, I was put on seven NEW medications, and my existing four were increased in dosage. I started seeing a chiropractor to be adjusted 3-4 times per week in my rib cage and sternal area, just so I could breathe. I continued on working at the children's hospital, in hopes that my doctors would discover why I felt so horrible.

In March of this year, I fell while doing yard work and broke my left ankle. Because of this traumatic break, I wasn't able to use my leg, or work. I was let go from my job, and that's about when I hit rock bottom. After a month, my insurance was gone, my money was gone and I was still awaiting a determination from the unemployment office as to whether or not I qualified for benefits. Being practically broke, I started slowly cutting my medicines out of my regimen slowly. I was SICK. I'd even stopped taking my Zoloft for depression, my Nexium from GERD (reflux), and my Metformin for my Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS). I was off almost all my meds except for the ones over-the-counter I could still afford.

I was SICK, mentally and physically. I slept 14 hours per night and still needed a 3-4 hour nap every afternoon, and I was STILL exhausted. I attributed most of this to depression and brushed it off, saying once I got a job it would be better. I continued looking for work, but after a couple months I decided my health was too bad to continue working in healthcare, so I started looking for something else.

My first day working at the electronic company, I got on the internet during my lunch and decided to get on a medical journal website, just to browse. The first article was about a recent research study about the link between PCOS and gluten. After reading through the entire article twice (just to be sure I didn't misread anything), I was convinced trying a gluten-free diet would be the first step towards finding a cure, or at least some symptom relief.

We were going to Houston on a road trip, so I decided the taco carts, with all the yummy corn tortillas would be a great way to start on my gluten-free diet. Once I realized I just needed to avoid wheat and barley it wasn't so bad. but then, I realized the ingredient "caramel color" found in most sodas, is made from Barley. It was pretty discouraging to have been eating no gluten, but still having bowel troubles and not knowing why! So no brown soda. I could do that!

After the first 24 hours, I woke up feeling better than I'd felt for a LONNNNG time. I'd been doing breathing treatments at least 4 times per day every day for almost 3 months, since I'd stock piled them while I had insurance. I'd been chewing Tums like candy to relieve my heart burn, and Beano to relieve my gas pains before every meal.

After about a week, I had only needed a breathing treatment ONCE. From 4x/day to ONCE per week??? After talking to a few colleagues, I determined that I'd been responding to my gluten allergy with an anaphylactic-type reaction in my lungs! Really???? I'd been diagnosed with CHRONIC BRONCHITIS in just the months before. And now I've been asthma-attack free for over two weeks? I was even out working in the yard in 102 degree 99% humidity, hauling 400-600lbs of dirt in a wheel barrow UPHILL. I didn't have a single problem.

After all the evidence gathered, using the scientific method at home, I've drawn my conclusions, and I have a theory. As long as I continue feeling good, having energy and keeping that desire for life, I'll keep avoiding the bread. Don't feel bad for me, though. Saying you're sorry I can't eat bread is like saying, "I'm sorry you don't have gas, constant diarrhea or chronic bronchitis anymore." That's silly... Feel happy that I've found my Achilles' tendon.

I know I don't have insurance, I know I don't have a medical diagnosis, but I have results. I have feelings, and I have a desire to LIVE my life for the first time since I've been living it.

I'm a Cradle Robber

I married a youngin' I suppose. I really never thought 4-ish years would have much impact on our interaction on a daily basis, but it really does. We watched completely different cartoons as a kid. Don't get me wrong, I had little brothers, so I saw a lot of the cartoons Bryan watched.

The other day, he was watching over my shoulder as I typed in a web address. I typed www.gmail.com into the bar. Bryan snickers a little bit over my shoulder. I turn around slowly with a confused look on my face. He mimics my face and laughs.

"You still type the www part in your web addresses," he asked with a hint of surprise.

I thought about it for a minute. I never really stopped typing in

that part because when the internet CAME OUT, we had to specify if we were going to an intranet or the WORLD WIDE WEB. Yes, children, that's what the "www" stands for at the beginning of those web addresses.

It's not just the emphasis on him being four years my younger. There are also some sad reminders that I am, in fact, four years his elder.

Seeing as we ARE a married, adult couple, I'm not ashamed to tell the world that we have a very healthy sex life. Over the last week, I started having trouble with my right hip. So naturally (and all in good humor), Bryan immediately attributes it to h

is "rocking my world" and my failing elderly joints. I sadly accepted this as fact, not remembering that my right leg had just done 20 hours of driving to and from Houston, then just yesterday, 14 hours of driving to and from Sioux City, IA. (By the way, AVOID I-29 if you're headed north. The detour takes you 40 miles east. Just go up MO 71 through Maryville to I-80, then west to IA-59. I care about you enough to warn you, remember that.) All of this driving has been done in the last two weeks, mind you.

I finally remembered this to be the contributing factor to my aching hip, ya know... accelerating, braking, back 'n' forth all day? I do NOT have elderly joints. I'm only going to be 29 next month... I'm still in my prime. OK... I may be a few days pas

t the expiration date, but waste not, want not, right?

Despite the age difference, Bryan has proved to me time and time again to be the most amazingly mature younger man I've ever encountered. He is wise beyond his years, that's why the age on his ID didn't matter much. Age is just a number... once you're over 18, that is.

Life 101: Big Questions, No Answers

So I've done it... I think. I've gotten married, had a child, graduated college, started my career. Well, OK... Not exactly in that order. I'm supposedly living "the dream" right now. Why do I still feel quite awake and firmly grounded?

Society has painted the image of a nuclear family with a working dad, upper middle-class home in a nice neighborhood with no crime. Alright June Cleaver... Let's get back to the REAL reality. The one that exists right outside my front door. The reality which contains uni-bombers, terrorists, bad drivers, tsunamis, rabid dogs and Peeps. OK... I kinda like Peeps, I guess. Do I have a point? Why YES! I do! The point is... How exactly are we supposed to have an idealistic image of what our world should be when the ones we USED to have are tainted, torn and smeared all over the graffiti-painted walls of downtown... wherever you live. Unless you live in Fargo, ND. Then, you don't have any graffiti, just ice sculptures of gang signs.

So here I am... Pondering all of life's big questions. I know I can't figure them out all at once, or all in the same lifetime, even. But I'm trying, just barely, to get by. Little by little, bit by bit. I will survive.