5 years ago, I thought that going gluten free and corn free and having that "Celiac Diagnosis" (even if it was by duck theory) would be the end of stomach issues, and dropped balls, and letting the kids down.
I thought it would fix everything. I had names, labels...even when I hit a plateau I knew it was so much better than it had been and hoped that eventually, I'd find the slope and get climbing upwards again.
I'm starting to think I was wrong. These really are just pieces in the puzzle of my life. They help, but they don't cure. There's something, some vital piece still missing.
Last week I was quickly diagnosed with H Pylori, which might help to explain the slow backslide of the past year. The treatment is almost as bad as the disease, but I'm hoping after the ten days of antibiotics are over I'll maybe finally snap back to radiant health. Or, maybe just feel like spending an entire afternoon at the zoo.
The worst part isn't the nausea, or the cramping and fatigue that's just enough to keep me near bed. It's my daughter asking if I'm sick, and wanting to stay home "to take care of you!" It's dropping her off at girl scouts, and apologizing because I really can't stay (Er, but I'm going to run in and use the restroom real quick...) It's my oldest asking if I'm going to die. (NO! It's not the least bit serious, it just makes me need to rest. It just upsets my tummy. You can help by getting along with your sister.) It's trying to face dinnertime with a smile, because they need real food and they need to feel good about real food. And it's laying in bed, thinking about the dishes I don't feel up to scrubbing, the floor I want to vacuum, the counters that need to be washed down.
Sometimes I just want to be unreasonable, and throw a fit...insist that they find what's "wrong" and "fix" it. I've come close to screaming in frustration. I know, I need to be patient and let each step bring me closer to healing. But I'm not sure rationalizing it makes the process any easier.