Sunday, August 22, 2010

In the beginning..

I was diagnosed with Celiacs Disease in February of 2008. I was a junior in college who had just returned from a trip abroad to the land of delicious bread (read: France). I began showing symptoms while I was traveling, but talked it up to be nothing more than:
  1. "something funny that I ate"
  2. a few instances of being hung over
  3. stomach ulcers
All of which it sort of was. I returned to the US feeling a little fatter and in a terrible mood, but still nothing that raised any red flags. I just thought I had eaten too many meals of bread and cheese for my own good and I was just unhappy to be returning to the US after such a wonderful experience abroad.

Cut to a month later when I was convinced I was allergic to salad. (fact.)

My dad is the first one I called from my apartment to say something was wrong with my stomach. I explained my symptoms and he responded with the one thing I subconsciously knew but was denying. "It sounds like you're gluten intolerant." My dad has been a Celiac for as long as I can remember. His sister and my two cousins have Celiacs. My dad's mom was diagnosed with Celiacs about 6 years ago. So I guess you could say it runs in the family.

I went to my doctor (still was seeing my pediatrician) and told her about my symptoms and that I also believed I was allergic to salad. She laughed and assured me it wasn't salad, and she didn't think it was Celiacs but that we would do a blood test just to be sure.

A few days later I received a phone call from her and I quote:
"In all my years as a pediatrician I have never diagnosed anyone with Celiacs, however today you are my first. According to your blood test, you are REALLY, REALLY allergic to gluten"

And so it began.

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