“Oh Melissa. . . You look so tired.”
That statement, had become the new “hey, how ya doin?” whenever I’d run into someone I knew shopping in town, at a party, or any other function. Really? I look tired? Well thank you, I hadn’t noticed.
My self esteem was skyrocketing.
I felt like crap. I really WAS tired, and my motivation to do anything at all had gone on vacation and didn’t say when it’d be back. Something was definitely wrong so I figured it was time to get some answers.
I went to the doctor and I had some blood work done. She checked my hormone levels, thyroid, etc. All good. It can’t be all good. I feel like crap. All. The. Time. But when the doctor says “all your tests came back normal”, what do you do? So I trudged along, chocking it up to the stress of the horrific ordeal of building our house and a pile of changes at work (also known as doing more, for less). Then, it got worse. I gained 10lbs in a just few weeks, I cried at the drop of a hat, I wasn’t sleeping, I just plain ol’ felt like the bottom of a shoe. A worn out shoe… with holes, and gum.
Adding to the awesomeness I felt, there was also the raging PMS that would leave my poor husband standing there, in bewilderment, looking slightly afraid of the fire breathing dragon that had inhabited his wife. Which would make me feel even more horrible and send me and my jiggly self straight to the fridge.
On a visit to my chiropractor, he asked me in his normal, innocent way, what he could do for me and I broke down. I sat there in his office, crying, telling him how I feel like I’m falling apart (in case he couldn’t tell by my blubbering). I told him how much of a mess I’d been lately and without a second thought, he told me to cut out gluten (ugh, I already knew that was an issue but that shit’s in everything) and sugar (dammit!), and to get myself to a doctor who specialized in autoimmune diseases and get tested. Ummm, okay, but I don’t have any autoimmune diseases – I had blood work done a year ago.
Regardless of my denial, I find a doctor. Not the regular, run of the mill, clinic doctor. This guy specializes in autoimmune diseases. He is however, NOT CHEAP!! He sends me for a multitude of blood – 26 vials in one sitting – and urine samples that all get sent to some special lab in Seattle for testing. But first… please fill out a 30 page questionnaire about your life. Ugh.
Now, what do I know for sure. . . I’m celiac (thanks Grandma), I’m hypothyroid (thanks Daddy), I have candida (thanks sugar… well, I’ll be honest here and say it’s primarily bread and alcohol with their crazy high glycemic index as I’m not real big on sweets). I have more intolerances to foods than I even knew there were different foods (apparently due to the celiac disease as the gluten has destroyed my gut – most of these are reversible). I’m extremely acidic and I have an abundance (30% higher than it should be) of a certain protein that puts me at a high risk of heart disease. Then, the super frustrating information I was given that day was that when he looked back on blood tests dating back thirteen years, I had tested just a sliver below the diagnosis line for both celiac disease and hypothyroidism – closer and closer every time. Nice. Maybe give a girl a heads up next time Dr. Dumbass’ of the past. Ya think? Think of those early tests as a gas tank… I had a little gas in the tank, not much, but enough to limp along. However, not knowing how just little I had in the tank, I just kept driving past the gas stations, oblivious to my need, just sputtering along.
So again, I sit in a doctors office in tears. This time though, I’m actually – for the first time in my 42 years – afraid of dying too young. That ‘high risk of heart disease’ scared me… a lot.
I’m not used to having to be super strict with my diet and to be brutally honest, it sucks. It’s become so normal for most of us to eat breads or pasta at almost every meal that cutting those foods out completely is a serious adjustment in our home menu and good Lord don’t get me started on trying to eat out! But, after falling off the wagon and feeling seriously like a hacky sack for a year again, I’ve got to get serious about this.
I’m doing ok now. It’s been a week (yes, a week) today that my diet has been relatively clean. I did screw up and have some creamy butternut squash soup late last week though and the histamine reaction (on top of the pimple party) I get from dairy, was an extra bit of fun that caused such a two day sinus headache that my right eyeball felt as if it wanted to stab itself with a fork to ease the pressure.
Now, as days off from work are approaching and I’m not trapped in the boonies with only whatever I packed in my lunch, let’s see if I can keep up the strength required to maintain this restrictive – but essential to my health – way of eating. It’s a lot tougher when the foods are there, and you can reach them.
Sentimental Salvage & Design 