Month: June 2010

Um. I’m Uncomfortable.

And this time it’s not ’cause I ate too much brie or mistakenly thought couscous was gluten-free.

I’m uncomfortable with a comment on my previous post from “Marty McFly (formerly a maggot)”. Here it is:

I watched a movie called “Fuck Everlasting” when I was in fourth grade. I turned in my “assignment” in a ziploc bag. My teacher was not amused. She even spanked me.

That’s where it all began for me.

The comment is gross and crass, both of which I’m often for, so I don’t know why I’m all squirmy about this one. Maybe because it’s not funny? Would funny counter-balance the icky? Or is it because “Marty” has made sexual comments on prior occasions?

I don’t know.

I do know that playing Great and Powerful Avid Bruxist and deleting comments also makes me uncomfortable.

Thoughts?

It Begins in Fourth Grade

A book that I read aloud to my students every year is the gorgeously-told, cleverly-spun, deeply-thought-provoking Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt. And then I show the movie and we have a compare & contrast discussion.

One big difference between the book and the movie is that, in the former, the main character Winnie Foster is eleven. She has a little bit of a crush on Jesse Tuck and there’s the possibility of a future romance.

For the movie, they punched up the romance angle, of course, and to do that, they had to make Winnie fifteen. Last week, when my students saw the hand-holding and ACK! the kiss, they all groaned and giggled and covered their eyes. In one scene, the young couple went swimming in a river. As Winnie unlaced her dress, I could feel the eyebrows in the room raise. She pulled it off to reveal a slip that might as well have been another dress—that’s how big and thick and fluffy it was.

And from somewhere amidst the group of boys on the carpet arose a disappointed, “Awww.”

I’m pretty sure it was Cody.

Woe

Man, this is hard.

I cleaned out my cabinet and gave all the products containing wheat to my sister. (Except my last box of Thin Mints. I just can’t do it.) And I’m doing my best to take gluten-free lunches to school and cook just meat and vegetables for dinner.

But god, all our work meetings are lousy with Goldfish and pretzels. On Friday, I read the label and found out the delicious blue crab dip that my sister procures from Costco…has bread crumbs in it. And today, at my book club brunch, the table was decorated tantalizingly with muffins (my coffee was so lonely!) and pesto French bread and whatnot. I just ate some of the vegetables & dip and salad. I also scooped myself some orzo, not realizing until an hour later when I was all groggy that that was pasta. (Maybe I was imagining it was rice pilaf?)

I’m grumpy. I’m trying to sell my house, and I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, and I just want to be able to eat a bagel like a normal person.

Wah! Listen to all my First World problems!

Cause & Effect

As I said a few days ago, after a two-year experiment with SSRIs, I gave up on them and began seeking alternate remedies for my long-lived depression.  On top of that, I was getting really sick of being tired all the time and wanted to treat that problem too. I didn’t think I had Chronic Fatigue, but I definitely had chronic fatigue, and it really had my knickers in a twist. Every afternoon, from about 3:00 to 6:00, I could barely pick my head up.

My mom had wondered aloud a while back if I might have Celiac disease. Her evidence was compelling:  First, I’m a lactard, and lactose intolerance and gluten intolerance often go together. Second, last year, my iron was deficient, and there was no real reason it should be. I eat a lot of iron-rich foods, and (boys, close your eyes and ears and go “lalalalalala!”) I don’t have particularly heavy periods (OK, guys, it’s over). And last, ethnically-speaking, I come from a long line of potato-eaters, and my mom wasn’t sure if our ilk had the guts to process wheat.

A little on-line research revealed to me that Celiac-sufferers frequently have digestive issues, but occasionally, the only symptoms are fatigue and/or depression. Hmmmmm. I sat and I thunk.

That’s when I went to see an osteopath. I wanted to get his take on things. He had his nurse draw eleventy billion vials of blood from my minute veins, asked me to pee in a cup, and told me I should try a gluten-free diet to see if I felt better. I told him I’d just as soon jab my eyes out. I mean, everything that’s delicious in the world has wheat in it. I would wait to see what the blood work said.

Alas, I was positive he was going to tell me I had Celiac, and the next day, I resigned myself to my baguette-less fate. I started transitioning into my horrible new life by avoiding wheat.

And guess what. Remember that crushing fatigue? Gone. I mean, like that (snaps fingers).

The next day, meh, probably a fluke, I’d just have a little wheat…3:00 rolled around and clunk, couldn’t move. Since then, every day I’ve eaten wheat, I’ve crashed; every day I haven’t, I haven’t.

On my next visit, my doc pronounced the following:

  1. I was low on B12 and would need to get a shot every week for six weeks. Boo.
  2. My D was also in need of topping up, so I should take 5,000 IUs of that a day.
  3. Thyroid function was borderline low. He prescribed a thyroid med and told me to start with a daily half-tablet.
  4. I didn’t have Celiac disease.

Wha?!

More research! Ah, there’s such a thing as NCGS. That’s non-Celiac gluten sensitive.

There you have it, folks. I’m a lactard and a glutard. Could I be more ‘tarded?

P.S. I haven’t been able to be consistent enough to see if it’s the Magic Bullet that’s going to knock out my depression.  Keep yer fingers crossed!