Oh, hai. You guys, I have to say I’ve been feeling a big neglectful lately. When I was all up in the Whole 30 I was posting every damn thing I was cooking up. When I’m being normal, I’m all “Ohmygoddidyouseethis???” But I’ve had a rough week. A week that I’m pretty sure started with me getting gluten’d, and then I thought maybe some gluten-free fettucine alfredo followed by ice cream would be no problem, but guess what BIG ‘EFFING PROBLEM. Because apparently dairy is lining up to bite me in the ass. And then, I was so totally 100% pure eating that I can’t figure out why I’m still sick. Oh, right, it’s because you don’t get slipped gluten then go back to a normal life after you’ve pooped it out. Which is why I’m writing this post. Because, you know what? I don’t really think people get it when you say you have celiac and you can’t have gluten. I think people don’t get that this is a disease, and it has serious consequences, and those of us with this stupid sprue are actually sick. Like, have a disease. Which is why it’s called celiac disease.
Tag Archives: celiac disease
After spending a day-in-the-half in the hospital, first for myself, then for my daughter, I’ve recently had the delight of being exposed to a number of physicians. While I’m a big fan of my general practitioner, and don’t even get me started on my GI doc (so handsome, so unfazed by poop talk), whenever I’m sick I find myself in that position of playing phone dodge with my GP’s office. Usually I’m calling before they open, or after, or in that two-hour lunch break where the staff refuses to answer the phone for 15 minutes leading up and 15 minutes after. Which is how I wound up at one of those walk-in clinics on the weekend, and ultimately in the ER.
All doctors are not created equal, ya’ll. Some of them are all, “Umm, yeah you should NOT be taking these antibiotics,” and others are like, “I’m pretty sure it’s not the most powerful antibiotics in the world that you’re hoovering while being celiac, but merely a stomach bug,” as I’m being pumped full of morphine. Then there’s the, “It was probably that burger you had.” Ummm, don’t mess with my burger, people. Do. Not. Mess. (Although if it does turn out to be the burger, well, fool me once contaminated meat, shame on you . . . )
Then we’re all up in my daughter’s villi and the result is, “Looks good, but that blood test seems wonky, so let’s biopsy and talk about this celiac situation again.”
Okay. I get that maybe medical science isn’t all that exact. I get that people get misdiagnosed, non-diagnosed, and just ignored for years. But at this point I was preparing for my super duper exciting book release (TUESDAY!!!!) and my even more exciting book hocking this weekend at the CDF Gluten-Free Expo in Pasadena. (Yes, I do realize that “excited” and “gluten-free expo in Pasadena” do not usually go together. But you, my people, get it.) And instead of just sitting around staring at a pile of books, grinning like an idiot I’m instead staring at this gluten-free chicken soup and waiting for when I can actually eat it without yakking.
If you almost threw up reading that headline, know that I’m with you. Still. It turns out that I’ve discovered the most useful thing about having celiac disease—you can help other people when they receive the same diagnosis. Which is what just happened. But before I get all wise and zen-like, let me just say this—
So the first thing I cooked up in my Dutch oven the second I was finished with this gluten-free reset diet situation was gluten-free short ribs and black beans (recipe later). I also had some gluten-free Omission beer, and a gluten-free cupcake, as seen above. Not coincidentally, I also had a wicked gluten-free stomach ache because apparently you’re not supposed to indulge in such an extravagant manner after eating three weeks of vegetables. But you guys, the main thing I learned from this cleanse-y, restricted diet thing? I fucking love food.
The happiest I’ve been in three weeks was the day I woke up and said, “Oh my god, I can eat cheese again!” I picked up some brie, some cotswald cheddar with chives, a little Parmesan and gouda mixture, and I have some burrata just waiting for me in the fridge. Not much makes me happier than knowing a good meal is only moments away. Or a good appetizer. I’m not picky. That scenario did not happen so much for me on my restricted diet.
Still, it was a really great experience for a few reasons. One, I lost five pounds. But even more importantly, I learned some big time gluten-free life lessons. You wanna’ know what they were? Read on! Continue reading
Hello, GIMBers! I’m feeling a little weak from my whole reset/vegan’ish situation and it’s making me ponder that other time I had to cut out a major food group. Which was, coincidentally, two years ago last week! Happy horrible going gluten-free anniversary to me.
But I’m not the only one who was upended by this dramatic change, I have a family and all. When you’re diagnosed with celiac disease, the advice is to remove all gluten from the home; which means your roommates are going on the diet too. If you decide to go on a gluten-free diet — whether forcibly, or otherwise — you have to stop and consider the other people living in your home. I mean, I didn’t. But you totally should.
Granted the kids still have Cheerios and normal bagels, and I’m totally suspicious that my husband shoves as much gluten into his gullet every day at lunch, but other than those exceptions we’re kinda’ a gluten-free household. So I decided to sit them down and let them know I feel their pain, and what is that pain, exactly? It turns out, I’m cramping everyone’s restaurant dining style. Continue reading
It’s that time ladies and gents. Time to evaluate our personal failures of the year before and vow to do better in the fresh, new, one. I’ve got plenty, but instead of confessing every last oopsie to you fine people, I’m just going to focus on three areas of improvement for this celiac. Well, that’s three plus one huge one that is TBA. Yes, that is a cliff-hanger! Stay tuned.
In the meantime, here are my three gluten-free new year’s resolutions. Continue reading
I just started a mafia! Who wants to join? I’m not sure if I’ll be getting into drugs or just stick with guns, but regardless it’s totally going to be gluten-free. First target: Those jerks who are making fellow celiac, Jennifer Esposito, lose her shit.
I’m not 100% clear on what the issue is, but it sounds like Esposito is in need of some consideration for her medical condition on the set of “Blue Bloods” on CBS. I also don’t know given the language and “official” statements if Esposito was forced out, or if she left on her own. Regardless, she’s saying it is the former and here’s her tweet on all of this noise: Continue reading
So here’s some good, and horrible, news. I do believe I’ve — at least partially — gotten to the bottom of some of my gluten’ing. Thanks to lovely reader Katherine Kelley, I discovered wheat starch in my generic Tylenol from Safeway. Imagine that! Thanks for that tip I would have never, ever, considered that, Katherine. And seriously, WTF?
Additionally, and this totally falls under the “shame on me” category, there’s gluten in my Skinny Vanilla Latte. Apparently I’m the kind of gal who has to learn hard lessons biannually, as I clearly forgot why I swore I would never go back to Starbucks. (Also, I just know I’ll be in line again before the week is out. What’s wrong with me? Don’t answer that.) Here’s the response I received when I asked Starbucks HQ about my go-to treat, since the people actually working in Starbucks did not seem to be clued into the gluten scene: Continue reading
Isn’t everything, though? Making a pie? Throw some chocolate chips on top. Hiking solo with hopes on scoring a major movie deal where you are played by James Franco? Better put some chocolate chips in your trail mix, if you want to survive long enough to cut off your own arm. Basically, chocolate chips rule.
So when pulling together some banana bread muffins to take with us on our big President’s Day snow tubing (which I’ve never heard of, and cannot figure out how there is snow in Southern California, but I’m so totally game. Still, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA WORKS.) trip, I thought I’d add them into an otherwise pretty basic recipe. Guess who is about to get applause in the car on the way to Mt. Baldy? Me. Or at least I’d better, or I’m turning this car around and no one will be allowed to see snow EVER AGAIN. Continue reading