Intolerant & Grieving

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” ~ Vicki Harrison




Grief is a terrible thing to go through. I know. I have lost a lot of loved ones in my lifetime to sickness and death. In fact, we have over 7 people in our family that have crossed on to the spiritual realm in just the past year alone. Each experience is a bit different than the next. Yet, there is always the same question popping up..."Why?"

• Why is this happening?
• Why is there so much pain?
• Why? Oh God, Why?

"LITTLE DEATH"

Each time there is an ending or as some people would call it, "little death" in our life, there is a certain amount of grieving that comes with it. These little deaths can be the literal death of someone's life, the loss of a job, ending of a relationship, a debilitating sickness or injury, or even failure to thrive and succeed in any endeavor.

No one EVER prepared me for having to grieve the loss of food! It actually sounds quite insignificant when you think about all the other tragedies we experience in our lifetime. Yet, here is misery sitting at my front door, just the same.

INTOLERANT

I discovered a little over a year ago that I am gluten intolerant. That means that all the lovely cakes, cookies, pastas and breads that I have loved and even been addicted to my entire life are all off limits now.

Once you can't have something anymore, it pops up at you and taunts you from every nook and cranny it can find. Have you ever noticed how many television commercials are about food? And did you know that damn near all these commercials are celebrating and pushing for gluten-rich foods? It seems like everything is breaded in something anymore. Yep, anything that contains white flour or wheat is deathly to my system.

Try going to a grocery store and finding foods that don't contain modified food starch! Ha! Good luck on that one! Almost everything contains this poison anymore. If you see me at a grocery store getting more and more upset and disclaiming loudly enough for the next customer in the aisle to hear what a bunch of a-holes the food industry is, don't be surprised. This is just the anger stage of grief coming out in me.

• Why is this happening to me?
• Why is there so much pain?
• Why do most gluten-free modified foods taste like crap?
• Why do I have to smile and tell people it's OK for them to eat their yummy shit in front of me, while I drool in a corner and want to cry?
• Why? Oh God, Why?

HERE'S MY STORY

This "little death" snuck up on me slowly over the years. I missed so many days of work due to illness! There were days that I sat hunched over at my desk for hours trying to fight back the excruciating pain and nausea that ran deep within my gut.

Eventually I had to go on FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act) to protect my position at work so I wouldn't lose my job. This rarely makes anyone that you work with happy.

Visits to the doctor and many tests didn't prove a thing.

Oh, sure, I had been on medication for acid re-flux for many years. So, it seemed natural to change the medication and play with dosage first.

• Two separate blood tests for Celiac Disease came back negative (it runs in the family)
• Biopsy from endoscopy and colonoscopy came back negative for Celiac Disease
• Two or three ultrasounds of the gallbladder were negative for issues
• CT scan of my gut showed no intestinal problems

I tried a gluten-free diet for about two weeks. It didn't make a difference, so I happily told my siblings that I didn't have Celiac and could eat as much pasta and pizza as I wanted. (Here's the denial stage of grief). I didn't listen to my sister imploring with me over and over again that it takes about a year for your body to recuperate from the damage of gluten. I didn't listen, because I didn't want it to be true.

My body has been through a plethora of pain inducing circumstances. I have endured pregnancies and giving birth to five children (two of which are twins by cesarean). I would say that my pain tolerance is pretty high. Yet, there came a point in August, 2016 that I wanted someone to literally put me out of my misery. I had been nauseous and in pain for over two days. Trying to make myself throw up at home only made matters worse because of a hiatal hernia (the top of my stomach was literally edging up through the diaphragm into the esophagus). 

The emergency doctor gave me an IV with anti-nausea medications and morphine. Somewhere in the process they even gave me a GI cocktail to see if that would bring down the nausea a bit. It did, but only lasted about 10-15 minutes. The medications helped, but I ended up with a headache for about a week after from the morphine. This experience was so traumatic that I decided it HAD to be gluten and was not about to take another bite of something that I couldn't have. It was not worth it! (Here is the acceptance part of grief).

My second visit to the emergency room wasn't so pleasant. I had unknowingly eaten something that didn't agree with my body. This was around the time of a rampant stomach virus, so the young doctor didn't want to give me anything but anti-nausea medicine. He didn't care whether I had gotten a virus or ate something I shouldn't have. He said there was nothing he could do for me. In fact, he kept sending the nurse in to discharge me! Three anti-nausea medications and and intravenous dose of Benadryl later, they sent me home feeling drowsy but still in agony.

FRUCTOSE INTOLERANT TOO?

My GI (gastrointestinal) doctor sent me for food allergy testing this past spring of 2017. I found out on the first day of testing that I am intolerant to FRUCTOSE! You have got to be f'n kidding me! Fructose is in EVERYTHING! WTH am I supposed to eat? When I told one of my daughters the result of this testing she asked me, "Mom what are you supposed to eat? Paper?" We laughed over the phone about this, but both felt it wasn't really that funny of a situation.

Working at a convenience store in the kitchen is absolutely a joy! NOT! Ok, I love the people I work with, and I have a passion for providing people with exactly what they want. But dammit! Some days are so frickin' hard! I'm surrounded by the smells of pizzas, cheesy breadsticks, freshly baked breads, cookies, muffins and cinnamon rolls. When you smell, you taste! I see the absolutely beautiful looking donuts in the morning when I come in that were baked fresh overnight. Those rich chocolate and maple icings are calling to me! Or are they mocking me?

When I started working there, I joked with the manager and many co-workers that they wouldn't have to worry about me because there was hardly anything there in the store I could eat anyway. How disgustingly true this is. Even the damn grilled chicken, tuna salad, chicken salad, EVERYTHING is filled with modified food starch and makes me sick. My gut clenches up and I'm running for the powder room. 

The bargaining stage of grief comes in when I drink a caffeine-free soda during the day and test the boundaries of the fructose intolerance, or when I'm really hungry and nibble on a few cheesy potato bites that I know aren't gluten-free. I think if I just eat a little it will be OK. Some days this is true and some days it is not. 

The depression part of these food illnesses comes and goes without a warning. I do a pretty good job of putting on a smile and acting as if not being able to eat these "normal" foods isn't a big deal. But, eventually it wears on me and I just have a melt-down. 

I hope that one of these days the things I cannot have will no longer have such a strong hold on my emotions. Until then, I will ride the waves of this ocean of grief through the calm and the overwhelm. I never learned how to swim in water, but I do know how to swim through grief.