Easter Greetings

Most people don't think of Easter as a very corn filled holiday.  It's...more...carrots.  And maybe celery.  And...jellybeans. 
Actually, for most people with food allergies, Easter celebrations can be pretty safe. 
But, again, corn rears it's ugly head.  Ear?  Whatever. 
Jelly beans may generally be free of the top 8; but their rainbow appeal generally comes from a rainbow of artificial food colorings.  These are linked with behavior issues, and possibly further health problems, in some individuals. There are naturally colored jelly beans from Surf Sweets, Green Beans, and even Jelly Belly superfruits. 
Unfortunately, the above are either made with corn syrup, or the corn containing citric acid. 
Gummy candy is another perrenial favorite...Gummy bears fit just perfectly into the plastic colored eggs.  (And of course an egg laying bunny is going to hatch red and yellow bears, right?)  Surf Sweet candies, Yummy Earth candies, and Annie's Naturals all have delicious alternatives.  (Containing corn) 
Florida's Natural Nuggets taste good and fit well in the eggs...but again contain corn derivatives. 
For a corn free candy, you might have to resort to St Claire's Hard candies.  (Tasty, but not quite as seasonal) 

And then there is the chocolate bunny.  Nut warnings, dairy derivatives, even gluten show up in those mischievous iconic candies.  Alternatives may be maple sugar shapes (I haven't seen a bunny, though), chocolates bought from a premier specialty facility like Premium Chocolatiers, or chocolate chips melted to fit various candy molds available in the market place. 

The only real candy novelties safe for corn avoiders are the ones we make ourselves.  But some have gotten creative with Erewhon rice cereal and homemade marshmallows to shape krisie treats, gelatin mold eggs, and shaped chocolates. 

Of course...the best egg stuffers are non candy...Littlest Pet shop figurines, In My Pocket pets, and small vehicles will delight kids 3-7; as will mardi gras beads and other small party favors (these aren't great for the environment, though)

As an adult with the corn allergy (and parent to a dairy free, gluten free kid and 2 who avoid artificial colorings) I prefer to not worry about the sugary novelties. 
Spice cake sounds good to me; and maybe if we have a few carrots I'll grate them in for corn free carrot cake.  I'm still working on a white frosting recipe.  Powdered sugar has not been easy to find, but I'm certain there is decent frosting to be had without it.  (after all, people have been frosting cakes for generations...haven't they?) 

The kids are looking forward to egg dyeing.  Although every year I tell myself we'll find some nice, safe, all natural dyes...I got lazy (and cheap) and purchased a sponge paintng kit.  We will dye 2 dozen eggs, of the cheapest brand I find, and Mr. Violets will bring what he wants to work.  The rest will be a tragic waste of resources...but at least they'll serve a purpose in entertainment, art exploration, and decoration.  And they'll decompose quickly, a nice Earth Day bonus. 

Maybe we'll work in a short hike, or at least a trip to the park.  After all...the whole point of Easter is to welcome spring back to our lives.  And part of springtime is getting back outside.  We'll also be attempting another garden.  We've already fed a honeydew seedling to the snails in our yard, and (after putting down salt) are considering ttempting strawberry plants.  They grow well and Bumblebee enjoys them.  Maybe I'll even be able to handle a few despite the prevalence of seeds.  (Or maybe I'll puree them and strain the seeds)  At least if they're homegrown, I'll know if it was the strawberry or the 'industry standard' rinse that didn't get scrubbed off. 

I'm Grateful for Good Kids

It occurs to me that I never got around to finishing my "Thanksgiving" post.  And it's not terribly coherent, or even that relevant a week later.
But I'm still grateful.  And I've a lot to be Thankful for, any day of the year.
Wednesday of this week ushered in the first night of Hanukkah.  Bumblebee had a small meltdown over not being the ONLY one to get to light a menorah this year, although on Wednesday she was permitted.  She stayed coherent through the whole argument, though, which is a big step for her.  And Penguin stayed calm and was so sweet about the whole thing.  Thursday and Friday Penguin lit her own, smaller menorah.  At 12, it's still fun.  I'm not sure how important it will be to her at 13.
I'm still struggling with no appetite.  A little worried that I'm going to lose weight at this rate, so I try to choke down some peanut butter and chocolate when I realize it's been awhile.  My body doesn't object too much as long as I don't eat much at a time, and it's more calorie dense than broth, or rice, or baked fruit.
The kids are filled with the holiday spirit.  As am I.  Although waves of nausea and persistent debilitating cramping make it difficult to anticipate the 'togetherness' aspect.
Maybe it's selfish of me, but I want to spend time with people I love not thinking about my stomach.  At this point, being sick over the holidays seems like a tradition itself.  But so is HOPE.  Hope that things will improve.  Hope that we're going up an easy slope, and the end is just in sight.  Hope that recovery is waiting in the new year. 
Today, I had high hopes for the weekend.  There were several places on the agenda...a promise to take one child to the mall, another to a local park, and a small exhibit I didn't want to miss.  Both evenings are booked for spending time with loved ones.
As you might deduce from the fact that I'm typing rather than playing, this morning has me curled up with a heating pad.  The kids are cheerful enough, they showered me with hugs and kisses.  They told me to sleep.  And I'm listening to them playing happily in the living room.
While I absolutely HATE that I'm in here rather than out there (or even better, in the car listening to them in the backseat) I love that they are so understanding, so flexible.  And I'm grateful for the chance to parent them. 

Lessons from corn

Although I'd like to say that corn is pure evil, my sensible side keeps intervening.
It isn't corn that's inherently evil. It's what we're doing with corn, nature and everything else.

To paraphrase St. someone: The love of money is the root of all evil. And hence, the quest for money is at the root of all corn. That's what it all boils down to. Money talks.
Right now, money appears to grow in cornfields across the United States.

I've learned more than I wanted to about our food system. I've discovered that the FDA is a business, much like any other. And it's run by humans.

FAAN may have made a difference for thousands, but with all their knowledge and power, they still have an awful lot to learn. I'm only one of many learning from their mistakes.

Safety nets are often made of red tape.

I've learned that there are things I don't want to know or learn. Food was supposed to be easy. You browse the grocery store, you choose new items. It doesn't bite back. You don't worry about what it's doing to your child's hormones or brain development. That's what the FDA is there for...right? Right? RIGHT???

I've learned that experts have tunnel vision. Not only do they have tunnel vision, but it's rewarded with money. And they want to stay in the dark as desperately as I do.

I've learned that women are slightly more prone to food intolerance...or maybe they just admit it more readily than men do.

And I've learned how easy, and satisfying, it is to live outside the box.

Corny Lessons

My mom used to have a little magnet up that read "You can never be too rich or too thin". I saw that phrase quoted in a lot of places while growing up in the 80's.

It's come to mind a lot lately. And I think that the corn industry has proved it wrong, on both counts. Although many people theorize that corn is one of the primary causes of the expanding waistbands of Americans in general, for those with severe intolerance it can have the opposite affect. You see, in order to form fat cells, food has to sit around in the body long enough to be absorbed and digested. Some forms of intolerance cause the body to attempt to rapidly rid itself of identified attackers...including corn.

The guru of genetic engineering, mastermind of maize has proven that one can be too rich, at least as part of a corporation. It boggles my mind how one corporation can grow large enough to dominate the food supply. Sometimes it seems that there are connections, interwoven webs with Monsanto and Corn vital strands. Genetic modification still seems very arrogant to me. How can we presume to know enough about DNA and intricate workings of nature to manipulate the gene pool of the food we rely upon to nourish us? With the knowledge that releasing these genes into the open air, they become impossible to contain should come the responsibility to hold on to that particular technology. There are too many questions left unanswered. Why would anyone gamble our future, our children's health and world, on an arrogant science when better options exist? It boils down to money. There's money in new products, new techniques, new patents. Old ways can't be patented, they can't earn residual income.
Where are the people who are supposed to look out for us? Who's in charge? Well, it looks like the guy who convinced the FDA to treat genetically modified food as "substantially equal" to naturally grown food is now a Senior Adviser to the FDA. And the choice for Under Secretary of Agriculture doesn't trust the American public to make our own decisions about what we do or don't want in products labeled "milk". Otherwise why would he have fought to make it illegal for companies that refuse to use rBGH to label their products rBGH free? (And isn't it a violation of our constitutional right to free speech to forbid a company to advertise the truth about their own product? They weren't bad mouthing rBGH. Just stating that their product was hormone free.)

I suppose since our household is predominantly dairy free, I shouldn't stress too much. But I want to know what's in my food. I think that the American people have a right to know. And I don't think that monetary compensation should have anything to do with what we can and can't know about our food.
The truth is that people don't want extra hormones. They don't trust pesticides or genetic modification. They know that general health has been declining over the past 100 years, even if life spans might increase and treatments for disease improve the odds. Our general health and well being has been steadily going downhill. And we know, instinctively, that it's in our diet and lifestyle.
We aren't suffering from a deficit in gym memberships. We aren't suffering from a deficit in food, nor are we GMO deficient and we certainly don't suffer from lack of rBGH in our dairy products (which we faithfully chug thanks to the dairy boards "Got Milk" campaign). There's something wrong with the packaged food lifestyle, and modifying crops to increase yield, decrease variety and monopolize the food chain is not the answer.
We want simplicity. We want truth. And we want to be trusted with the truth. Unless the government trusts us, how can we trust them?

Why is it so hard?

I frequent several online communities or bulletin boards specializing in dietary restrictions of some sort. Recently, there have been a few friendly polls asking what we miss the most, what we wish we'd known, how things would have been easier. It left me thinking about the different attitudes portrayed.

Some people are given a diagnosis of food allergies, and they embrace the new lifestyle. They actively seek out alternatives and find themselves determined to meet and beat the challenge. Others fight the change with everything they have, determined to go out kicking. They settle for a few symptoms, and appear angry that doctors can't "cure" this named malady. And others curl up in a closet, limiting their diet to the few foods they'd previously enjoyed that remain free of their allergens. Most fall between the extremes, and many bandy about, depending on their level of grief, acceptance and research.

I couldn't help but wonder what makes the transition so hard, so frightening for some. I look back on my journey and see that I've hit various levels of extreme. I've also thrown caution to the wind, and suffered the cosequences. I've fought, and cried, and been accused of eating disorders until the mere mention of one makes my hackles raise. I've embraced, and experimented, and tried whole heartedly to overcome the obstacles growing in front of me.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped trusting food. It became quite an enemy, something that I fear rather than relish. I can remember walking the aisles of a grocery store and being tempted by new treats and delicacies. I can remember enjoying taste tests and can even empathize with those who claim to "eat their way through Costco" on a sunday afternoon. But no longer. Now, I find a new brand of chocolate chips, and instead of trying them out for a special treat, I save them until there's nothing going on for a few days and nothing urgent for at least a week, just in case they bite back.

I yearn for broccoli, or mayo or salad dressing. I long for a simple quick fix meal that is new, unique. Forget the candy and the baked goods, I want a casserole!

But I don't trust it.

I think that's the hardest thing, the thing I miss the most. I don't trust food anymore. It's supposed to nourish, to sustain us. No one ever said it could bite back, destroy the lining of our small intestines, sprinkle our body with itchy red spots and wreak havoc with our digestive track. Not if you treat it with respect, anyways. Food is supposed to enhance the social experience, drawing people together in a shared caloric pleasure. What you see is supposed to be what you eat, not a variety of re-designed, corn derived pseudo-foods that are supposed to enhance the experience. Fun colors and flavors are supposed to be innocuous, but all those rainbow fish and brilliant gummies I used to treat the kids with put my child in bed, pale, sweating and miserable. And me? I think I'm broken. While I desire the quick, the fast, the easy...while I mourn for the past, I wouldn't trust it if it were offered.

Mother nature, or the FDA, broke that trust a long time ago. And it's a hard road back, filled with the painful reminder of indigestion and more questions than answers. With intolerances, there are no firm lines. And there is no FAAN or other organized group at your back, offering knowledge, studies and expertise. Just the knowledge that you aren't alone, and the grass root support of those who are muddling through alongside of you, just as lost but determined as you are.

A Vegetarian Waivers

I've always been vegetarian.

No, that's not true. My commitment began when I was around 6. I'd just wheedled my vegetarian-leaning mom into buying me a hamburger instead of a fish sandwich at a fast food place. My brother was contentedly staring out the window, munching away. I'd just taken a bite when he asked, wide eyed and innocent, if the field outside was where they kept the cows before "bashing their brains out and chopping them up into hamburgers".

Of course I freaked out.

And when my mom managed to calm me down, and yet assure me that the hamburger I'd begged, bargained and pleaded for was, indeed, derived from a cow, I resolved to go hungry that day. (Well, I ate the fries) And never, ever eat meat again.

When my conscience finally connected chicken and turkey with the critters that run around flapping their wings and pecking the ground, they left my diet as well. And I finally fished fish out in an attempt to feel better. Literature in the 90's claimed that vegetarians had healthier lifestyles than meat eaters. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel good. And I was all to happy to blame meat.

By high school, I needed more than "meat is gross", and I explored all the real reasons for my vegetarian choices. Animal cruelty was one, but it was easily compensated for by free range, organic options that were hitting the market. Certainly my goal wasn't to save a cow, the excessive number that are raised are harming our environment as it is.

The concept that one vegetarian can survive for a lifetime on the land it requires to feed one meat eater for one year really disturbed me. Environmental and political concerns, coupled with the idea that our bodies were not originally designed to digest meat (Our teeth simply sharp enough) strengthened my resolve.

But looking back, I wasn't "well". I just hid it well.

I later dabbled with various dietary measures, noting that on days I didn't have time to eat I felt great. With the IBS diagnosis, I went vegan on a doctor's advice. I dabbled in macrobiotics. I've since read up on paleo diets, blood type diets and the Specific Carb Diet, not to mention several versions of the Candida diet.

I've come to the conclusion that there is no one diet that fits everyone. Many facets of cure-all dietary approaches are similar, but address different causes for symptoms. I don't believe that humans were originally designed to eat meat. But in the grand scheme of things, we've been doing it for much longer than we've been eating gluten grains.

I've also come to the conclusion that I can't survive on rice, eggs, applesauce and a few well cooked veggies. Especially when I flare and those well cooked veggies don't settle down and get digested. I don't know that animal foods will help, but since I'm trying to put my trust in G-d, I've turned to prayer for an answer. And it occurred to me that if I AM going to use meat, I should do it kosher, to the best of my ability.

The fact that any food that is truly kosher for passover is also corn free is a bonus.

I also can't bring myself to consume red meat. No bashed up cows for me :-) But Chicken Soup is the Jewish Penicillin...so; I'll take solace in the thought that Mary probably cooked up something similar for her son. What was good enough for Him can't be too bad for me. Can it?

Skinny

I'm skinny. I'm slender, thin, twiggy, emaciated.

Other women seem to think the best way to "bond" is to walk up and chat up diet and excercize, to say things like "Oh, I hate women like you. You have so much self control."

Ha. Talk to my husband, who is almost horrified by the amount of chocolate and sweet potatoes I can consume (not together).

And I hate that the corn allergy thing is lumped with my figure. No, I'm not anorexic because there's nothing left to eat. The corn may have played a significant part in causing intestinal damage that prevents me from gaining weight well, the celiac certainly did. But there are foods that I should be able to eat. If it were a matter of allergy, I'd function within the confines of my diet. Corn allergy (etc) certainly complicates things, but there's more. And no one seems to know what it is.

Even more, I worry about raising two girls in a society that places deep value in calorie counts, pounds, and the size on a clothing tag.

People tell me they're so busy between work and parenting they can't find time to "lose weight". People with perfectly acceptable, natural, healthy looking curves tell me this. And I can't find the words to say I wish I had the energy to be that busy.

Getting Greener...

It's Earth Day. (Or was when I first started and forgot to post this entry)

The sun is shining (Thankfully not quite so hot as it was yesterday, or the day before); the garden is growing, and Bumblebee chose today to debut her brand new stainless steel bottle tote.

It's a work in progress. She says it hurt her shoulder, so the next proto-type will include a shoulder pad. We'll get there, and we'll grow greener doing it.

I'm still a bit skeptical about our garden. Although I'm elated to see green sprouts popping out of the ground, stretching their leaves to the sky, I have to remind myself that it's only taken them twice the germination time cited on the seed package.

Is it the weather, which clouded over and rained for a week as soon as we gently tucked them in the warm, dark earth? Is it the seeds, which were purchased on sale from another season's guaranteed to grow crop (seeds are seeds, and they ought to last if they didn't get wet or otherwise damaged) ? Or is my brown thumb rearing it's ugly head?

Maybe it's just stress...since the raised bed does not get a LOT of sun. None of the yard does.

However, the few nasturtiums that returned from last year seem happy, and I have a stunted looking rose that bolted into something resembling a tree in it's quest for light, and the fairy house looks pretty wild in the back nook. The yard is still, well, not tidy or anywhere resembling something that can be shown off. But it's green. And it gets us outdoors and excited.

(until Penguin sees a snail and runs for cover, anyways.)

Maybe we're all crazy...

I'm seeing a disturbing trend on message boards I frequent.

It's laughed about on the Avoiding Corn forum. It's subtly hinted at on Celiac listserves. It's vented over in special diet groups. And it's pondered, rhetorically, in various self-help corners of the world wide web.

"Maybe I'm wrong..."

"I must be crazy..."

"Except, that what I know just doesn't correlate to what I see..." (The words are different, but the gist is the same)

Why do we so easily doubt ourselves when what we witness just doesn't fit in with the world as we believe (or want) it to be?

Parents watch their children melt down after neon-colored cupcakes, candy and medicine...but tell themselves that it has to be...um, the excitement. Right? It's not the additives. Except (They anonymously vent inner doubts online) the child only really loses it when they have artificial coloring. And, well, it sounds crazy...but they've read a few things that made them wonder...It's probably a coincidence, right?

Adults note that certain foods cause bloating, and abdominal discomfort...digestive distress. But it isn't an allergy. It isn't an intolerance...it's, well, it's...um...something else.

People with intolerances start noting reactions and trace them to the "impossible" (like a banana) and tell themselves that they're crazy. Only to learn that their cereal is being recalled for contamination, or the bananas are sprayed with corn ethanol, or that their favorite potato chips now have a healthier oil (that just doesn't agree with that particular consumer.)

People who have Celiac and don't respond quickly to the diet are encouraged to wait it out, their questions about whether it could be something MORE are brushed aside like annoying spiderwebs. But, like those spiderwebs, they return until the problem is dealt with. Or, we learn to deal with symptoms and leave the doctor alone.

Concerned parents recite generic symptoms that doctors brush off, knowing that "chronic" isn't often serious. They play statistics, and statistically...parents stop complaining either because things DO get better or, more likely, they become normal. The warnings on the package say to consult a doctor if the condition doesn't go away. And most doctors run a few labs, shrug, and call it normal. Eventually, it is. Or abnormal becomes normal and we move on, with the suspicion that we're missing a piece of the puzzle.

At what point do we decide that Drs know more about everything than us?

As I tell my daughter, doctors know more about the human body and how to fix it than we do. However...we know our bodies. And it's our job to take care of them, and report problems to the doctor so that he can look for answers.

Unfortunately, it seems that many (if not most) doctors are so bent on brushing off their patients they forget that they can learn from them. Doctors DON'T know it all. They're human. Their skill is found in being a tool, only one tool that we the consumer utilize in our quest for health.

Sometimes, eventually some come back and say that not only were they NOT crazy...they have living, breathing proof (in a healthier body) accompanied by black and white test results that showed they had a physical cause for the "stress" or "over anxiety" (about their kids) all along.

Why did they waste time doubting themselves?

Just as actors are a tool in the art of entertainment, and editors are a tool in the world of publishing; the doctor is one of many tools we the consumer should use in our quest for health.

We need to educate ourselves about the food supply, about our medications and nutritional supplements, our water. We need to question doctors and other authority figures. Why are we taking this course of action? Why are my observances invalid? What makes these concerns invalid? And how many others have you successfully treated? Are any still your patient? (Okay, so I'm not quite brave enough to ask these questions. But they need to be asked.)

We need to question food companies, and pharmaceutical companies. We need to hold them responsible for the truth...and accountable for lies (but not necessarily honest mistakes). And we need to learn to trust ourselves. Another trait that has been victimized from society...sheep are rewarded, the inquisitive left behind or punished. We want to be normal. But I don't think there is a normal anymore.

Maybe there never was.

March comes into our household like a lion...filled with school projects, girl scout cookies (that half of us can't eat), a bunch of birthday parties interspersed with "Ugh, how can I have the flu again?!?" and of course, the promise of spring.

This year my husband is dutifully clearing our tiny yard. He was motivated by the prospect of Penguin's birthday party, a gaggle of tween girls giggling, running and generally wreaking havoc frightened him.

Luckily the party went off without a hitch (well, okay, unless you count me waking up with Penguin's flu two days beforehand.) Thankfully, my parents stepped in to take the girls to a "can't miss" event the day before; and with the support of my diligent husband and whining kids, the rest of the house was orderly, the table set, treasure hunt clues hidden and a gluten free cake baked and iced well before anyone arrived. They all asked for seconds, and even thirds, on the cake so it must not have come out too "gluten free".

Anyways...back to my musings...

The garden. Well; the wannabee garden. Our funky shaped yard that has spots of grass, areas of dirt, and a large square of cement. We weed, mow, and rearrange as we endeavor to determine once and for all WHERE the sun hits the longest. That's where vegetables have the best chance of survival, we think. And forget aesthetics. We want produce. We don't even want massive amounts of produce. Just a few simple plants.
Successful plants.

I'm going to turn this brown thumb of mine green. (Which may take an awful lot of determination, given the dead cactus on my windowsill.) Said dead cactus was removed for the birthday party. Which was more successful than any of my gardening attempts to date have been.

I want to do it for me. Sure, I want to cut the grocery bill a bit. And I love the idea of walking out into the garden and harvesting dinner. (Although I worry about having the energy to prepare it after harvesting.) I want to lower our impact on the environment by reducing our trips to the store. And I want...I want the kids to know where food comes from. I want them to get their hands dirty, and stop panicking when they see a bug, and to realize the full circle of life. I want them to experience the satisfaction of growing what's on their plate.

And I'm hopeful that Ms. B (whom I will soon dub BumbleB or HoneyB) will be more willing to eat a variety of foods if she actually grows them. (What can I say, I'm an optimist)

But most of all, I want to walk outside and see plants growing, real plants, real green leaves that we're nourishing. The sight of life will do more for all of our souls than the food itself, I think.

We've gardened before. A few years ago, we tightened our belts and spent our tax refund on all sorts of garden stuff. We were determined to make it work, and it almost did.

But just as the seeds were poking out of the ground, and the sunflowers were turning their heads to the sun, there was a knock on the door. To make a long story short, the garden didn't survive (nor did many of the tools) and it soured us on even trying again for a very long time.

However, we have a new landlord now, and a host of new allergies along with a bit more energy than we had a few years ago. Our confidence has had a chance to recover, and youngest does have the start of a green thumb that I want to cultivate.

So maybe...just maybe...we'll try...I think we'll start with sweet potatoes...

You Can't get to heaven without Gluten...

No, I don't believe it.
But, the woman who was going door to door trying to recruit for a new religious movement does. Or did. I'm not sure if I convinced her.

You see, I like to be nice to these people. I suppose that's the problem. They knock, offer to discuss theology and I smile and say I only have a minute but, sure, why not? I'm up front with the fact that I am a believer and not planning to convert. I know, I know...I present them with a challenge.

But I never walked away hurting before.

Today's evangelist is convinced that there is a Mother God in addition to (or perhaps combined with?) the well known "Father" God. I followed her reasoning, smiled and said I'd pray on it. Who am I to argue with a belief? I keep an open mind, and do my praying in private.

Then she asked if I realized that I couldn't get to heaven without taking part in Passover or Communion under the Mother God.

Um, what?

She went on, some scare tactics blanketed in a loving, concerned tone. She asked if I had ever taken part in a Passover or Communion. And her question shook me back to reality enough to sputter that I had a medical condition which prevented me from ingesting gluten grains.

Yes, even holy ones. They cause digestive damage.

"But, oh, you poor, then you can't..." the horror danced over her face, tears swam in her eyes, surely there was some way...but, just a little, it clearly states right here in Revelation that you must partake of the body and blood of Christ in order to gain entrance to heaven. You've never participated? Confusion, compassion, concern. Is this a heathen? Who can quote the bible back to me?

I was suddenly aware that my daughter was watching with wide eyes. I pulled my dignity around my shoulders like a cloaked, asked for the right words and managed to say in an even tone that if God saw fit to allow me this condition, known as Celiac Disease, then surely he wouldn't banish me from Heaven for not choosing to suffer the consequences.

She grasped my forearm, and gave me that "look". One you might give to someone you know isn't going to survive but there's nothing more you can do. And left.

Communion has been a sore spot with me for years. I wondered why my first Communion sat so uncomfortably in my stomach, and why I felt so nauseous after Communion Sundays. I quit going up front, at times I requested just the blessing.

Was God trying to tell me something?

I married a man who is half Jewish. In the Jewish culture, the Passover is celebrated with the drinking of wine and the ingesting of Matzoh. There's more to the celebration, much more, but those are the relevant points for food allergies.

Every year, around spring, the question of whether Matzoh is safe for Celiac patients comes up somewhere. And every so often, during my more reflective states, I notice the concern surrounding communion. Jesus broke bread, at the last supper (Which may or may not have been a proper Passover Seder) and instructed his disciples to break bread together, to share wine together, to eat and drink in remembrance of the sacrifice He made.

What happens when a true believer can't take and eat, or drink?

The Catholic Church has struggled with the answer, as have Rabbis. Surely God doesn't want his children to suffer intestinal damage simply for taking part in a religious ritual. And yet, what does that mean? Will he heal them for acting in faith? Or do we need to have faith that he will forgive us for abstaining?

It seems to me that the right route is often the harder one. And I doubt this case is any different. Just more emotional, because it's about devout believers debating their health versus eternal life.

I choose both. If suicide is a sin, then surely choosing to damage the body God gave you is one.

I'm not ashamed of that decision. But, the look I was given earlier continues to haunt me.
Another reminder that food is an integral part of our society. And when there is a restriction, it can impact you in the least expected ways.

Today, I'm simply going to talk out loud.

A friend of mine has two young kids who obviously react to traces of corn. She recently was priviliged to see a top allergist in the country. She was hopeful for answers, guidance, maybe if nothing else...some sort of explanation and if nothing else, some validation. As a parent, its scary to limit your child's diet. Especially without guidance from the medical community.

What she got was a slap in the face.

Those of us who have traced our painful symptoms to specific foods know that IgE allergies are life threatening. And that other "sensitivities" don't necessarily show up on food allergy tests. But we have done research and found studies that link our symptoms with food intolerances, or even allergies. Some of us are lucky enough to have allergists or gastroenterologists who have been around long enough to know that, regardless of current testing standards, some people have negative reactions to food. Foods can cause debillitating symptoms.

But this dr told my friend that her observations are not valid.

Of course...like any good parent, she will not harm her kids simply because the dr tells her to. She won't ignore their rashes and physical pain because this one specialist tells her they aren't really related to what they eat. (Just because it always happens when they eat specific items doesn't mean a thing.)

But this feels like a blow, not just to her but to all of us who find food as a definate trigger for physical symptoms.

This was a top specialist. One that other drs respect. An authority, if you will, on the subject of food allergies. And he doesn't believe in them, unless they kill you.

I don't know about you, the average reader who has stumbled upon my ramblings, but I don't want to die to prove a point. I don't want anyone to have to die, or come anywhere near it, to make the medical "community" say as a whole that food induced reactions are real and valid and need to be addressed. Nor do I want to suffer while waiting for this sudden realization. I'm not crazy about limiting my diet (I don't know anyone who'd choose this for the fun of it) but its a whole lot better to eat a few simple, prepared from scratch foods than it is to require a bottle of pain killers to function on an okay basis.

Regardless of what the gold standard testings have revealed, I don't have atypical rosacea, unresponsive IBS, abdominal pain of unknown origin, possible fybromyalgia, chronic fatigue, "Huh, thats weird," "Just stress," or "How interesting". I have symptoms which are clearly linked to the ingestion of certain foods. I don't know the best way to define these reactions. I'm not sure my doctors do either (though at least they were the ones to diagnose me, and support my belief that corn is the main culprit, they also diagnosed me with celiac disease; another food related illness that does not fall under the title of "allergy" but prior to diagnosis could be suspected as a wheat allergy) But they say allergy is the best description we currently have.

I think that we are in need of a new branch of medical science. A new Doctor with a specialty in food mediated illness. One who can dabble in diabetes, be up to date in celiac research, and be consulted for rashes, GI troubles, asthma and any other symptom that doesn't seem to have a direct cause. Or if the direct cause appears to be food related, but the symptom isn't life threatening. (For that matter...they might specialize in the life threatening reactions as well.)

There are very few studies done beyond anaphylaxis or lactose intolerance. And yet, those studies that are done and are on pubmed such as this one indicate that food can be the culprit of pain and symptoms without being a classic IgE allergy.

We know not to eat what hurts us. But, how do we know whats hurting us? How do we know whats really in the foods we eat? Corn is an eye opener. It can be on waxed fruit, in enriched rice, it can even leach into water from degrading "environmentally friendly" water bottles. What else is out there that is hurting someone and they just can't figure out what it is? Without validation from the medical community, we can't fight for full disclosure. We can't trust doctors and hospitals when we're sick. This post highlights the dangers for corn allergic individuals (although the poster is actually anaphylactic, and requires an epi pen) And what about other allergies? I've heard from numerous people with Celiac disease horror stories of being in a hospital, or donating blood and being in a situation of semi conscioussness when they could remember enough to say "I have celiac disease" and the nurses will say "we know" and hand them crackers. Or toast. Or cookies, to raise their blood sugar. And being dazed, in a position of dependancy, the patient will obligingly nibble...assuming that this is what is needed to get well. Until the cramps set in and pain brings them to the realization that their concerns were being blown off by caring individuals, and that the food they were told to eat "to get better" just poisoned them.

Something more needs to happen. And soon.