Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Silly Yak

I'm no fan of WebMD and my brother likes to tell me I am crazy. But I think I'm onto something here!

I have self diagnosed myself with Celiac Disease. So yes, it might be possible that I do not in fact have this ailment and that I am making it all up. But the whole Gluten free diet has been a freaking God send to my stomach and its previous issues. Without getting all sciency and stuff Celiac disease is an intolerance to gluten. It basically produces auto antibodies that destroy parts of my stomach called villi. Once destroyed they can no longer absorb the nutrients that everyone else can. And thus, pain is involved in the process.

I dealt with stomach pain for years and years. I thought I was lactose intolerant, which would be highly unlikely for someone who literally drinks milk every single day since I was born. I freaking love milk. And Cal Ripken is a liar. I'm from Baltimore so he is usually my go to man. Except growing up he was all about those milk ads. So i drank and I drank. I'm flipping 5 feet tall CAL! What the hell. I didn't grow big and strong because of all that lovely Calcium. Jerk. (okay so I've never broken a bone, and genetics might have something to do with my height, so maybe you do have something. Whatever you're still my hero, Billy Ripken!)

Moving on, I have been trying to keep a food diary (not consistently because well, I can't do anything consistently, except be loud of course.) for about 2 years. I never really noticed a trend in what triggered the pain and discomfort after eating. I knew yogurt was one of them, and my BFF explained to me that that was weird. Because people with digestion issues often are helped by the live cultures in yogurt. So I pretty much thought I was crazy at this point. I just knew that I was going to be in pain and sometimes not have any desire to eat another meal for hours upon hours after something set me off.

Very quietly I would deal with the pain, except when someone would listen to my complaints. I mean I am a woman, we will talk if someone will listen. My firefighter ex used to try to help me figure out exactly where the pain was. It was quite nice to actually have someone helping me because I was usually met with, "go to the doctor" "you probably just have gas" "eat more fiber" "welp, maybe your appendiz is going to burst" (That last one was my brother. He loves me.)

So over and over I was told to either shut up, or was given a ridiculous solution. Well I do believe I have mentioned my lack of health insurance in another post. And it is a BIG factor in my life. Especially when you have a mystery illness. But alas, I am still in no place to afford myself the sweet luxury of health insurance.

No matter! I have figured it out. I think Oprah calls these "ah ha! moments". Unfortunately the way that I found out was freaking Elisabeth Hasselbeck. Gross. When she talks I want to punch her. She might have just told me that I am the most beautiful woman in the world and I would still want to punch her in her baby maker.

But anyway, her obnoxious voice got me to stop on a channel where she was hocking her new book. I listened for a bit and it seemed to describe me. I immediately decided to do a gluten free diet for a month or so to gauge amount of pain I was in.
It stopped. All together, no pain. It was tough the first couple of weeks. I still find it difficult to eat out. But honestly within weeks, I felt nothing. And it was amazing.

I had gotten so used to being doubled over in pain after eating that I found myself waiting. Waiting for it to hit me. I still do sometimes. I am only in month 2 of this lifestyle change and it is here to stay. Thank goodness I have a dietRition best friend who can help me figure out meals I can make. I gotta tell you I have never eaten so much meat in my entire life.

I seemed to have traded one obnioxious trait for another. I may now be that annoying girl at the restaurant asking what is "gluten free" and making sure there is "no bun" on my burgers and such. But I will no longer be the girl sitting there complaining after a meal any longer. I wont be all "i wanna go home, my stomach hurts" or "stop talking to me I hate you as well as my stomach!" Not that I've ever said those things. (sorry to the people who got yelled at while I was dealing with pain, I am pretty much only in touch with my more abrazive feelings, not so much the softer ones.)my bad.

But I'm better now!

...stay tuned.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Will YOU give me ten thousand dollars?

I am so thick headed,but that's another post.(no seriously I'm currently working on how it's possible that I function in life whilst being as stubborn as I am, stay tuned). I am finally sitting down to my computer on what is possibly the nicest day of this summer so far. Not too hot, plenty of sunshine and not a drop of rain forecasted. So I pick THE nicest day to stay inside and babble on to the multitudes (read:negative quantities) of people that have been breahtlessly waiting for a post since May. I have been putting off writing for a couple weeks now. Certainly not due to a lack of goings on to talk about. I started a couple of posts and never finished them...
One was about Rod Piazza and the glorious times where I thought "I'm gonna be a blues singer..you can freaking mumble and jumble words and put a few kick ass notes behind you and people eat that shit up" Rod Piazza wore a suit jacket splattered with gold paint spots. His wife played the piano with her feet and the waitress at Ram's Head Live told my father that they didn't have Guinness but they had another beer like it called "Genius".(Brilliant!) She also said peanut grigio. I love and simultaneously hate people all at the same time!

I had a post about the debauchery that went down in Dewey Beach on Memorial Day weekend. If you've ever heard of Dewey or been lucky enough to have passed through there, then you know. It's no bigger than 13 bars on a single stretch of road will allow. But it's the homiest most comfortable place I have ever been. For 6 years now I have made my way back there to enjoy the splendor (read: half naked surfer boys and a complete disconnect from the rest of the world.) that Dewey provides. For example Suicide Sunday is a time honored tradition at one of the WORLD's greatest bars, The Starboard. Wake up nice and early and get your game face on. Bloody Marys and Mimosas at nine in the afternoon, Eggs Delmarva and a line that boasts "if your not standing in it by 9:15, just go home." So I will spare you the champagne soaked details and get to the moral of this non-post... Ask and you shall recieve. Hostess pages me at 2 hour wait time and says htey're no longer seating. I asked her to reconsider. The owner of the joint gave us a table.
Shots? Done, I didn't pay for any of them.
Pouring a gimundo container of syrup on obnoxious frat boys around us? Yup he seriously let me. Got mad at the aftermath of having WAY more syrup on his face than he had planned. Then later asked me to marry him. (the rule doesn't apply to him, I said no.)
3pm came and the crew was far from coherent...the night ended there. For some, not for me but again the details have been lost in a sea of thoughts consumed by the fact that I will again return this weekend for my best friends little sister(lets call her Henna)'s 21st birthday.

I read the Blogess' post about her aunt dying and though how coincidental that it inspired her to write a post about Mariah Carey and my aunt Christy just passed away 2 weeks ago and I couldn't think of a syllable to write that wouldn't make me curse the heavens for taking such a life force out this world.

I also had a post about, oh shit. I already forgot that one too. Well let me tell you what finally got me to sit down and write after all these weeks.

A loan. A boring stinking banks are failing someone give me a car loan.
So my question is... if they say no. Will YOU give me around 10 grand? Or how about a car in working order? Oh come on. I'm cute.


...stay tuned