I've dropped below a BMI of 18. According to most information on the net, this is considered serious and may have some health risks.
According to the entire medical system I currently have access to, they'd rather see me skinny than overweight so they aren't concerned. Even given my symptoms, which are deemed "functional" although they seem decidedly the opposite.
I've been advised to begin drinking soda, maybe snack on some potato chips. Eat ice cream between meals. Anything high in fat or sugar to help put the pounds back on.
I can't help but think that this is what's wrong with society.
It's not that I have anything against junk food in general. I think it's great for special occasions. But I know my body is not suffering from a sugar deficit. And I know that there are minimal nutrients in food like potato chips. And I was advised months ago, due to blood work, to lay off the sugar and fast food (that I don't eat).
I'm frustrated that pointing this out, respectfully, makes me seem obstinate and argumentative. It seems to make the medical professionals I'm consulting for support respond in a defensive, dismissive manner.
I get that calories are important and it's easier to get a lot of calories from junk food, but maybe our doctors and nurses and nutritional consultants need to be looking at more than simple calories. I read more and more articles online where nutrition is a focus. People are looking for superfoods like kale and chia seeds to cure all woes.
In my opinion (as a not so healthy feeling probably not average American without a medical degree) we need to be seeking balance. We need doctors and nurses and nutritionists who are more concerned about whole health and can look at a bigger picture, rather than 15 minutes stuff it in a box and move on to the next patient. None of us are truly text book cases, and we'll make a lot more progress as a society if we think and put pieces together properly.
Otherwise we're just trading out health problems. And I'm not sure I really prefer type 2 diabetes over "Huh, that's weird." I'd rather get to the root of the problem and fix it. Or at least not add new issues to old ones. I've got a life to live here.
Saturday, January 09, 2016
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Nausea is the worst
I feel bad for saying this, even for thinking it. But truly, some days nausea feels like the worst symptom.
I know there are people who have it worse. I count my blessings nightly, kiss my kids and walk the dog, I say a silent prayer of thanks for what I have.
But I can't help but think that nausea is still just...miserable.
I have my allergies relatively under control. My symptoms are new and probably "functional" which means, while I by no means am fully functional, my body technically has nothing wrong that needs treatment.
Whether your diagnosis is functional abdominal something, or IBS, or something more specific, the queasies are never fun. They impact every area of your life, from baking to eating to socializing. They may even impact your ability to work normally.
If you, like me, are struggling with stomach woes this year, just know that you aren't alone. The episodes are (hopefully) transient and short lived. I won't say it could be worse because that doesn't help me. But at least it isn't the end of the world.
For anyone else out there who is struggling, you probably have already had a list of recommendations that don't work.
I'm not going to say that there is an easy fix, or a one size fits all solution. There isn't. But, here are a few (corn free, gluten free as always) options that help take the edge off for me:
Ice water: Something about really cold water makes it stay down better. Small sips. Sometimes pressing the glass to your wrists between sips helps, too.
Cold compress: A cool compress on the wrists, inside the elbows or at the nape of the neck can be soothing. And of course, if you're having those awful hot flash false fever things that sometimes accompany nausea, a cool cloth on the forehead never hurts.
Hot tea: Depending on the day, hot tea can be soothing. Small pieces of ginger can be simmered in water for 10-20 minutes to make ginger tea, or you can steep anise seeds for a licoricey taste. Stir in a touch of sugar. If you have a safe milk product to stir in, ginger tea tastes better with some creamy texture. But if you don't, that's perfectly okay too.
Motion Sickness Bands: Those little gray bracelets with a marble in them? They work. Not like magic, exactly, but they definitely help take the edge off. The only trouble is that they can get stretched out and then they don't work nearly so well.
A brisk walk: Yeah, I know, that seems counter intuitive. But I find that a bit of fresh air (especially cold air) can really help calm things down. Our hyperactive dog helps with this one a lot.
Dry food: You know how pregnant women snack on saltines all day long? And little kids get bits of dry toast when they're recovering from the flu? Neither of those work with Celiac Disease. But slightly toasted day-old rice or rice flour pancakes seem to settle much better than the fresh version. I think it's a combination of the texture and the blandness. Not appealing when you're well, but there are times when you would rather a few calories slip past your sensory network.
Broth: A perennial favorite, homemade broth gets a few precious calories in alongside some important nutrients. Chicken broth, veggie broth, bone broth...whatever you prefer, get the ingredients into your crockpot before bed, and you'll have hot broth at your fingertips all day long.
Calm music, or a favorite movie: There's comfort food, and there's comfort food for the soul. Whatever your spiritual comfort food is...plug it in, curl up with a warm blanket and put your brain on autopilot. If you can close your eyes to appreciate it, all the better.
You'll note that I don't mention books. I love books. I'm a voracious reader. You can tell I haven't been feeling "normal" by the number of books I go through, just as you can guess my state of mind by the number of items I bring home from the library. But I have to be careful, reading too much can exacerbate stomach issues. Someday I'll get a smarter device and listen to recorded books...Occasionally I'll pick up a recording of Jane Austen, and while I find it hard to follow the story when I'm not feeling great, I do appreciate the soothing tone of the narrator.
I wish there was a miracle cure I could offer. I'd love to wave a magical wand and cure us all of persistent stomach "issues". But until then, the best I can do is tell you that you aren't alone. And hope that I'm not alone either! :P
It's especially challenging to deal with health issues during the holidays. Try and focus on what you can do, not what you want to be able to do. The holidays are a time of love and togetherness...as well as forgiveness and understanding. The people who matter will understand. The people who try and hold it against you don't matter.
Enjoy your holiday, embrace the calm moments and accept the queasy ones. You only get one today, don't put it entirely on hold.
I know there are people who have it worse. I count my blessings nightly, kiss my kids and walk the dog, I say a silent prayer of thanks for what I have.
But I can't help but think that nausea is still just...miserable.
I have my allergies relatively under control. My symptoms are new and probably "functional" which means, while I by no means am fully functional, my body technically has nothing wrong that needs treatment.
Whether your diagnosis is functional abdominal something, or IBS, or something more specific, the queasies are never fun. They impact every area of your life, from baking to eating to socializing. They may even impact your ability to work normally.
If you, like me, are struggling with stomach woes this year, just know that you aren't alone. The episodes are (hopefully) transient and short lived. I won't say it could be worse because that doesn't help me. But at least it isn't the end of the world.
For anyone else out there who is struggling, you probably have already had a list of recommendations that don't work.
I'm not going to say that there is an easy fix, or a one size fits all solution. There isn't. But, here are a few (corn free, gluten free as always) options that help take the edge off for me:
Ice water: Something about really cold water makes it stay down better. Small sips. Sometimes pressing the glass to your wrists between sips helps, too.
Cold compress: A cool compress on the wrists, inside the elbows or at the nape of the neck can be soothing. And of course, if you're having those awful hot flash false fever things that sometimes accompany nausea, a cool cloth on the forehead never hurts.
Hot tea: Depending on the day, hot tea can be soothing. Small pieces of ginger can be simmered in water for 10-20 minutes to make ginger tea, or you can steep anise seeds for a licoricey taste. Stir in a touch of sugar. If you have a safe milk product to stir in, ginger tea tastes better with some creamy texture. But if you don't, that's perfectly okay too.
Motion Sickness Bands: Those little gray bracelets with a marble in them? They work. Not like magic, exactly, but they definitely help take the edge off. The only trouble is that they can get stretched out and then they don't work nearly so well.
A brisk walk: Yeah, I know, that seems counter intuitive. But I find that a bit of fresh air (especially cold air) can really help calm things down. Our hyperactive dog helps with this one a lot.
Dry food: You know how pregnant women snack on saltines all day long? And little kids get bits of dry toast when they're recovering from the flu? Neither of those work with Celiac Disease. But slightly toasted day-old rice or rice flour pancakes seem to settle much better than the fresh version. I think it's a combination of the texture and the blandness. Not appealing when you're well, but there are times when you would rather a few calories slip past your sensory network.
Broth: A perennial favorite, homemade broth gets a few precious calories in alongside some important nutrients. Chicken broth, veggie broth, bone broth...whatever you prefer, get the ingredients into your crockpot before bed, and you'll have hot broth at your fingertips all day long.
Calm music, or a favorite movie: There's comfort food, and there's comfort food for the soul. Whatever your spiritual comfort food is...plug it in, curl up with a warm blanket and put your brain on autopilot. If you can close your eyes to appreciate it, all the better.
You'll note that I don't mention books. I love books. I'm a voracious reader. You can tell I haven't been feeling "normal" by the number of books I go through, just as you can guess my state of mind by the number of items I bring home from the library. But I have to be careful, reading too much can exacerbate stomach issues. Someday I'll get a smarter device and listen to recorded books...Occasionally I'll pick up a recording of Jane Austen, and while I find it hard to follow the story when I'm not feeling great, I do appreciate the soothing tone of the narrator.
I wish there was a miracle cure I could offer. I'd love to wave a magical wand and cure us all of persistent stomach "issues". But until then, the best I can do is tell you that you aren't alone. And hope that I'm not alone either! :P
It's especially challenging to deal with health issues during the holidays. Try and focus on what you can do, not what you want to be able to do. The holidays are a time of love and togetherness...as well as forgiveness and understanding. The people who matter will understand. The people who try and hold it against you don't matter.
Enjoy your holiday, embrace the calm moments and accept the queasy ones. You only get one today, don't put it entirely on hold.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Potluck Power: Corn allergy edition
Life with a corn allergy leads to a lot of obstacles. Food is everywhere. Most people don't even realize how often they snack, or accept a drink, munch on food that isn't homemade. But where there is socializing, there is food. And for those of us with food allergies; there is tempatation and risk.
For some people with food restrictions, the risk is minimal. For others, it's big.
And then there are those who are just beginning...they don't know how big the risk really is, and that makes it seem like a looming obstacle.
Luckily, you don't have to eat food that you don't provide. Really, it is that simple. There is no reason whatsoever that you would be forced to eat a meal that you don't have control over, so let that risk go. You get to choose what goes into your body.
Once I learned that trick, social situations became infinitely easier. (Especially once I figured out that I didn't need to explain to every single person at a party exactly why I wasn't eating.)
The next obstacle was just as hard if not harder: What to share.
Obviously, I'm not talking about words. I've already stated that I learned not to overshare. Oversharing is bad, it loses friends and creates judgement. It leads to a nasty neverending cycle of self consciousness, negative self talk and isolation.
Once I started to be social again, I didn't like showing up at parties, especially pot lucks, empty handed. But what could I share? My diet was/is so limited. I was used to friends and strangers' appalled faces, and questions like "what do you eat?"
Food. The answer, dear reader: I eat food. I just tend to know what, exactly, is in it.
This is a rarity in some circles. And the lack of unpronouncables in the ingredient list is a distinct turn off to some individuals. It was definitely a deterrent to me. What if they miss the polysorbate 80? What if they notice there's no MSG? And, potentially the most unforgiveable of all, how will it possibly look appealing without the aid of yellow #6?
My fears were misplaced. I started slow. I ensured there were no known nut allergies and brought my old fashioned peanut butter cookies. The recipe calls for 1 jar, 2 eggs, and 2 cups of sugar. I add chocolate chunks and a touch of rice flour. It's rich, creamy, and I've had folk ask if they can bring a few home wrapped in a napkin. This, as you can imagine, was the ultimate compliment.
For a more savory dish, I've had success with roasted sweet potatoes. It's a simple recipe involving sweet potatoes, onions and sometimes carrots, beets, parsnips and/or garlic. I've roasted brussel sprouts, too, but people are still suspicious of their green-ness. (Those brave souls who try a few always take seconds or thirds, but the first bite seems to take an awful lot of courage. After all, they're brussel sprouts. They've had a bad rap every since the Beaver's days.) Of course, with this recipe you need to be careful where your dish is placed and that serving utensils don't get mixed up. Cross contamination is a concern, and I sometimes find myself hovering protectively over the food...totally negating the normalcy of sharing food.
Then I wanted something sweet, but not too sweet. Something that could pass as a brunchy food. I wanted to bring carrot cake...but I don't have a good frosting. Besides, frosting would turn it into a real dessert.
Solution? Carrot cake baked into loaf pans. I get lots of positive feedback, and the sugar content is significantly lowered. Plus, I can turn the leftovers into peanut butter sandwiches. If there are any leftovers. Which is rarely.
Final risk taken? Chebe bread. It's made from a mix. I sometimes add garlic and spinach or diced bell peppers. I roll it into small rolls to make it less intimidating to potluck snackers. It gets rave reviews and lots of questions about ingredients and what I do to make it taste so much like "real food".
Potlucks are no longer terrifying.
I still have to worry about cross contamination, and environmental sources of corn (Did someone recently pop corn, is there cornstarch in the air?) but I've managed to feel successful at the end of several potluck type situations.
There's just something satisfying about being able to share what I eat, and finding out that other people don't find it nearly as bland and depressing as they seem to think they will.
I won't pretend I don't feel awkward about my dietary limitations, because I do. And the point of this blog is to be honest and support anyone else in the same boat. But I realized that the only way to help others accept my restrictions and see past them is to act normal. Which means pretending that it really isn't a big deal either way if I can eat the food they offer, or if they taste my offerings.
Once I started pretending, I realized it was true. Especially once I discovered that I had perfectly respectable dishes to offer. My diet is different, but not inferior. What we eat while we talk is really irrelevant. The fact that we're talking, and the contents of our conversation, that's what matters.
For some people with food restrictions, the risk is minimal. For others, it's big.
And then there are those who are just beginning...they don't know how big the risk really is, and that makes it seem like a looming obstacle.
Luckily, you don't have to eat food that you don't provide. Really, it is that simple. There is no reason whatsoever that you would be forced to eat a meal that you don't have control over, so let that risk go. You get to choose what goes into your body.
Once I learned that trick, social situations became infinitely easier. (Especially once I figured out that I didn't need to explain to every single person at a party exactly why I wasn't eating.)
The next obstacle was just as hard if not harder: What to share.
Obviously, I'm not talking about words. I've already stated that I learned not to overshare. Oversharing is bad, it loses friends and creates judgement. It leads to a nasty neverending cycle of self consciousness, negative self talk and isolation.
Once I started to be social again, I didn't like showing up at parties, especially pot lucks, empty handed. But what could I share? My diet was/is so limited. I was used to friends and strangers' appalled faces, and questions like "what do you eat?"
Food. The answer, dear reader: I eat food. I just tend to know what, exactly, is in it.
This is a rarity in some circles. And the lack of unpronouncables in the ingredient list is a distinct turn off to some individuals. It was definitely a deterrent to me. What if they miss the polysorbate 80? What if they notice there's no MSG? And, potentially the most unforgiveable of all, how will it possibly look appealing without the aid of yellow #6?
My fears were misplaced. I started slow. I ensured there were no known nut allergies and brought my old fashioned peanut butter cookies. The recipe calls for 1 jar, 2 eggs, and 2 cups of sugar. I add chocolate chunks and a touch of rice flour. It's rich, creamy, and I've had folk ask if they can bring a few home wrapped in a napkin. This, as you can imagine, was the ultimate compliment.
For a more savory dish, I've had success with roasted sweet potatoes. It's a simple recipe involving sweet potatoes, onions and sometimes carrots, beets, parsnips and/or garlic. I've roasted brussel sprouts, too, but people are still suspicious of their green-ness. (Those brave souls who try a few always take seconds or thirds, but the first bite seems to take an awful lot of courage. After all, they're brussel sprouts. They've had a bad rap every since the Beaver's days.) Of course, with this recipe you need to be careful where your dish is placed and that serving utensils don't get mixed up. Cross contamination is a concern, and I sometimes find myself hovering protectively over the food...totally negating the normalcy of sharing food.
Then I wanted something sweet, but not too sweet. Something that could pass as a brunchy food. I wanted to bring carrot cake...but I don't have a good frosting. Besides, frosting would turn it into a real dessert.
Solution? Carrot cake baked into loaf pans. I get lots of positive feedback, and the sugar content is significantly lowered. Plus, I can turn the leftovers into peanut butter sandwiches. If there are any leftovers. Which is rarely.
Final risk taken? Chebe bread. It's made from a mix. I sometimes add garlic and spinach or diced bell peppers. I roll it into small rolls to make it less intimidating to potluck snackers. It gets rave reviews and lots of questions about ingredients and what I do to make it taste so much like "real food".
Potlucks are no longer terrifying.
I still have to worry about cross contamination, and environmental sources of corn (Did someone recently pop corn, is there cornstarch in the air?) but I've managed to feel successful at the end of several potluck type situations.
There's just something satisfying about being able to share what I eat, and finding out that other people don't find it nearly as bland and depressing as they seem to think they will.
I won't pretend I don't feel awkward about my dietary limitations, because I do. And the point of this blog is to be honest and support anyone else in the same boat. But I realized that the only way to help others accept my restrictions and see past them is to act normal. Which means pretending that it really isn't a big deal either way if I can eat the food they offer, or if they taste my offerings.
Once I started pretending, I realized it was true. Especially once I discovered that I had perfectly respectable dishes to offer. My diet is different, but not inferior. What we eat while we talk is really irrelevant. The fact that we're talking, and the contents of our conversation, that's what matters.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
I wish I knew then...
When I was just starting out, my allergies were all consuming. At least, learning to live with these food restrictions felt all consuming. I had to relearn how to shop, how to cook, how to maneuver social situations. I had to change my taste buds, adjust what tasted "good" according to what was "safe". I had to learn self control in ways I'd never really had to learn it before.
And I had to do it all without going crazy.
I started out by apologizing. A lot. I felt guilty for turning down food. I felt guilty for being served a dish of something if I couldn't eat it, knowing it would be thrown away. I felt guilty when people spent money on gifts like cookies or (evil) popcorn tins that I wouldn't be able to use. I was so focused on not poisoning myself that it became almost a mantra.
"I can't eat that, or that, or that" "I have food allergies" And then the details. Long explanations about corn and symptoms and weight loss and drs and answers.
It became all about me, when ironically, my goal was to NOT cause a scene. I never was fond of throwing up in public, even in public restrooms, and avoiding food that triggered that type of behavior seemed like a good way to keep attention off of myself.
And I had to explain why I wasn't eating...didn't I?
I mean, if I didn't apologize and make sure that the host understood just how bad my reactions were, wouldn't they think I was crazy? Or at the very least, very rude?
Like most of us, I was raised to be polite. Take a taste. Take just a little and finish your plate. You don't want to offend the cook. In some cultures it's the utmost reproach to turn down food.
But it's pretty rude to empty your stomach midmeal, too.
And it's more than a little distracting to stop breathing in the middle of a party. Ambulances are known to put a damper on festivities. Besides, medical attention is expensive. And whether you eat the food and risk dying, or don't eat the food...you risk offending the host. So you might as well stay safe.
Like many food allergy sufferers, I let myself over compensate by over explaining. I didn't realize that no one cared about my stomach, or my symptoms, or why I wasn't at the last few parties. While people would ask why I wasn't eating, or comment on my weight loss, they didn't really *care*. (And I mean that in the best possible way) This was a party, after all. The comments weren't meant to trigger a heart to heart between strangers.
But, being self conscious, I'd start to explain. And then I'd clarify. And when I saw the glazed over look, I explained some more.
I might as well have been screaming "Don't judge me! Don't think I'm crazy! Forgive me! I'm really not crazy!" Unfortunately, when someone starts claiming they aren't crazy, that's the one word everyone around them latches onto.
I know now that when I was talking frankly about diagnosis and symptoms and our broken food supply, many of those around me were only hearing one thing: Eating disorder.
I was under a hundred pounds, and refusing to eat, and going off on a tangent about corn in salad greens. Or whole wheat crackers. Or candy. Or whatever was in front of me. I was poisoned by bottled water once, it didn't make social situations any easier.
But it did make me look...paranoid.
I know now that it doesn't actually matter whether we eat party food or not. There are a thousand reasons to say "No, thank you." to a meal or a snack. We don't need excuses to validate our choices. Our choice is valid in itself.
I know now that it's okay to just not eat something.
It's also okay to change the subject quickly. We aren't there to eat; we don't need to submit to a third degree. We're there to enjoy the company. And we can't do that while we're busy justifying our choice to take care of our bodies and protect our health.
If I had it to do over again, I'd smack myself on the back of the head (not literally...that would get me labeled crazy in a whole different manner), and tell myself to stop talking. Say "No, thanks," and leave it at that.
People ask questions to be polite, and once they start it's hard to stop. The idea of food as an enemy is foreign to most people, they can't wrap their brains around it and are stuck asking questions they don't necessarily want more information about. No one needs a history of health problems, other than your doctor.
No one needs to know exactly why you're saying no to a piece of cake or pizza. A choice is a valid choice as long as it isn't infringing on someone else's health issues. And it doesn't hurt anyone when you choose an empty plate. Social situations are for filling your heart with friends and love. For building up relationships, not passing judgement.
Forget the guilt, say "no thanks" to allergen-questionable treats, and keep your hands free for the important things, like hugs and high fives.
And I had to do it all without going crazy.
I started out by apologizing. A lot. I felt guilty for turning down food. I felt guilty for being served a dish of something if I couldn't eat it, knowing it would be thrown away. I felt guilty when people spent money on gifts like cookies or (evil) popcorn tins that I wouldn't be able to use. I was so focused on not poisoning myself that it became almost a mantra.
"I can't eat that, or that, or that" "I have food allergies" And then the details. Long explanations about corn and symptoms and weight loss and drs and answers.
It became all about me, when ironically, my goal was to NOT cause a scene. I never was fond of throwing up in public, even in public restrooms, and avoiding food that triggered that type of behavior seemed like a good way to keep attention off of myself.
And I had to explain why I wasn't eating...didn't I?
I mean, if I didn't apologize and make sure that the host understood just how bad my reactions were, wouldn't they think I was crazy? Or at the very least, very rude?
Like most of us, I was raised to be polite. Take a taste. Take just a little and finish your plate. You don't want to offend the cook. In some cultures it's the utmost reproach to turn down food.
But it's pretty rude to empty your stomach midmeal, too.
And it's more than a little distracting to stop breathing in the middle of a party. Ambulances are known to put a damper on festivities. Besides, medical attention is expensive. And whether you eat the food and risk dying, or don't eat the food...you risk offending the host. So you might as well stay safe.
Like many food allergy sufferers, I let myself over compensate by over explaining. I didn't realize that no one cared about my stomach, or my symptoms, or why I wasn't at the last few parties. While people would ask why I wasn't eating, or comment on my weight loss, they didn't really *care*. (And I mean that in the best possible way) This was a party, after all. The comments weren't meant to trigger a heart to heart between strangers.
But, being self conscious, I'd start to explain. And then I'd clarify. And when I saw the glazed over look, I explained some more.
I might as well have been screaming "Don't judge me! Don't think I'm crazy! Forgive me! I'm really not crazy!" Unfortunately, when someone starts claiming they aren't crazy, that's the one word everyone around them latches onto.
I know now that when I was talking frankly about diagnosis and symptoms and our broken food supply, many of those around me were only hearing one thing: Eating disorder.
I was under a hundred pounds, and refusing to eat, and going off on a tangent about corn in salad greens. Or whole wheat crackers. Or candy. Or whatever was in front of me. I was poisoned by bottled water once, it didn't make social situations any easier.
But it did make me look...paranoid.
I know now that it doesn't actually matter whether we eat party food or not. There are a thousand reasons to say "No, thank you." to a meal or a snack. We don't need excuses to validate our choices. Our choice is valid in itself.
I know now that it's okay to just not eat something.
It's also okay to change the subject quickly. We aren't there to eat; we don't need to submit to a third degree. We're there to enjoy the company. And we can't do that while we're busy justifying our choice to take care of our bodies and protect our health.
If I had it to do over again, I'd smack myself on the back of the head (not literally...that would get me labeled crazy in a whole different manner), and tell myself to stop talking. Say "No, thanks," and leave it at that.
People ask questions to be polite, and once they start it's hard to stop. The idea of food as an enemy is foreign to most people, they can't wrap their brains around it and are stuck asking questions they don't necessarily want more information about. No one needs a history of health problems, other than your doctor.
No one needs to know exactly why you're saying no to a piece of cake or pizza. A choice is a valid choice as long as it isn't infringing on someone else's health issues. And it doesn't hurt anyone when you choose an empty plate. Social situations are for filling your heart with friends and love. For building up relationships, not passing judgement.
Forget the guilt, say "no thanks" to allergen-questionable treats, and keep your hands free for the important things, like hugs and high fives.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Understanding Anxiety
My facebook page has been alive with pictures and shared articles and general discourse about the Late Great Robin Williams and his struggles with depression and anxiety. Everyone wants to understand, to comprehend what went wrong so we can fix it. So we can prevent any more suicides. Ever. They want to understand, to place blame, insert solutions, and move on.
The truth is, most people know someone who has struggled with a mental health issue at some time or another. Depression is not uncommon, nor is anxiety. What is uncommon is a true understanding of the dynamics behind either disorder (not to mention the plethora of other labels available.)
These hit home for me for a couple of reasons. First, I used to believe I struggled with some sort of mysterious anxiety issue. I never felt unreasonably anxious, really, but my stomach was never "right". And when the symptoms would get out of control; the doctors' answers were always "stress" or "anxiety" so I worked hard to ignore the symptoms, breathe deeply and move on. My biggest fear was not making it to the bathroom on time. In retrospect, it wasn't an irrational concern.
Fast forward several years. Now I've seen what anxiety can do to a person. I've struggled to find help for a loved one. I've argued with school personnel, tried my best to advocate for rights and appropriate treatment and in general mucked about in a lot of things I didn't understand while trying my best to find a solution.
What have I learned? That there isn't any one single solution. There are no real answers.
Anxiety and Depression (they often go hand in hand) Don't Make Sense. I capitalize intentionally, because there is no other way for me to impress upon you, my reader, how important that phrase is.
Trying to validate the situation, or explain away how ridiculous the fear really is, does not work in extreme cases. But in our society, we want to scrutinize the symptoms and solve them. Unfortunately, for some folks this doesn't help. The more we focused on reassuring my daughter that school was a safe environment, the harder it was for her to go.
And I can't tell you how many times the teachers, administrators and even therapists assured me that school couldn't be a trigger because they'd explained to her already that she was safe. And she'd agreed that it made sense and she liked school.
However, at 7 o'clock in the morning, time to get ready and out the door, none of that rationalization helped. In only made her feel much worse about her irrational terror of going. Which triggered more depression. Which in turn grew out of control.
I find it fascinating to read comments from adult sufferers of both anxiety and depression. They describe a dark presence that was there even in their childhood, a shadow over their normal activity that was dismissed by parents and teachers. They were told to get over it. They learned to hide it. They learned to be ashamed and that, in turn, led to more trouble seeking help when they finally decided that help was the only real solution.
Maybe the real key to understanding and successfully treating both Anxiety and Depression is a better way to accept the feelings, without judging, and finding ways to work with people who suffer. Protect jobs. Provide better school support. Stop trying to cure and move on, because from what I see, reading comment after comment after comment from adults who have dealt with mental health issues for most of their lives, and sought help (or been burned seeking help), the hardest part about getting help and moving on is the expectation that this is something that can be cured.
For whatever reason, anxiety is a permanent condition. It can be managed. It can even go dormant. But it isn't a permanent cure. People with true Anxiety Disorder may struggle off and on for their entire lives. That's a lot of years of trying to explain to others that they were "better" but now they aren't. A lot of time to feel guilty for not being normal.
If you're reading this and struggling; it's okay. It's okay to be scared, or upset. Those feelings are totally valid. What isn't okay is that those feelings are impacting your life, and there are limited ways to deal with it. Talk to a friend...and if they don't get it, talk to another friend. Keep talking. We need people to hear so that they can know. We need people to talk so that others know they aren't alone.
The truth is, most people know someone who has struggled with a mental health issue at some time or another. Depression is not uncommon, nor is anxiety. What is uncommon is a true understanding of the dynamics behind either disorder (not to mention the plethora of other labels available.)
These hit home for me for a couple of reasons. First, I used to believe I struggled with some sort of mysterious anxiety issue. I never felt unreasonably anxious, really, but my stomach was never "right". And when the symptoms would get out of control; the doctors' answers were always "stress" or "anxiety" so I worked hard to ignore the symptoms, breathe deeply and move on. My biggest fear was not making it to the bathroom on time. In retrospect, it wasn't an irrational concern.
Fast forward several years. Now I've seen what anxiety can do to a person. I've struggled to find help for a loved one. I've argued with school personnel, tried my best to advocate for rights and appropriate treatment and in general mucked about in a lot of things I didn't understand while trying my best to find a solution.
What have I learned? That there isn't any one single solution. There are no real answers.
Anxiety and Depression (they often go hand in hand) Don't Make Sense. I capitalize intentionally, because there is no other way for me to impress upon you, my reader, how important that phrase is.
Trying to validate the situation, or explain away how ridiculous the fear really is, does not work in extreme cases. But in our society, we want to scrutinize the symptoms and solve them. Unfortunately, for some folks this doesn't help. The more we focused on reassuring my daughter that school was a safe environment, the harder it was for her to go.
And I can't tell you how many times the teachers, administrators and even therapists assured me that school couldn't be a trigger because they'd explained to her already that she was safe. And she'd agreed that it made sense and she liked school.
However, at 7 o'clock in the morning, time to get ready and out the door, none of that rationalization helped. In only made her feel much worse about her irrational terror of going. Which triggered more depression. Which in turn grew out of control.
I find it fascinating to read comments from adult sufferers of both anxiety and depression. They describe a dark presence that was there even in their childhood, a shadow over their normal activity that was dismissed by parents and teachers. They were told to get over it. They learned to hide it. They learned to be ashamed and that, in turn, led to more trouble seeking help when they finally decided that help was the only real solution.
Maybe the real key to understanding and successfully treating both Anxiety and Depression is a better way to accept the feelings, without judging, and finding ways to work with people who suffer. Protect jobs. Provide better school support. Stop trying to cure and move on, because from what I see, reading comment after comment after comment from adults who have dealt with mental health issues for most of their lives, and sought help (or been burned seeking help), the hardest part about getting help and moving on is the expectation that this is something that can be cured.
For whatever reason, anxiety is a permanent condition. It can be managed. It can even go dormant. But it isn't a permanent cure. People with true Anxiety Disorder may struggle off and on for their entire lives. That's a lot of years of trying to explain to others that they were "better" but now they aren't. A lot of time to feel guilty for not being normal.
If you're reading this and struggling; it's okay. It's okay to be scared, or upset. Those feelings are totally valid. What isn't okay is that those feelings are impacting your life, and there are limited ways to deal with it. Talk to a friend...and if they don't get it, talk to another friend. Keep talking. We need people to hear so that they can know. We need people to talk so that others know they aren't alone.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Whenever I'm depressed or overwhelmed by financial frustration; I go to the library.
I run my fingers over the spines of the books. I fill my arms with books on whatever strikes my fancy. Often YA fantasy for an escapist read; but I'm also a fan of nonfiction. (My daughter calls these "end of the world books") I read classics. (I should read more classics than I do...) I look for something decadent, and something weighty to balance things out. I seek out well loved authors and unknowns. I choose them based on cover or because they've been on my To Be Read list or because I recognize the author. I snag books with interesting titles.
When I have a comforting load, I skim through movies.
I don't restrict myself. I choose something I've seen before...a lighthearted, feel good movie like Big or Fools Rush In. Or a feel good tearjerker like Titanic or just a plain old tearjerker like "My Sister's Keeper". Or something tense. Or something I haven't seen before.
The options are endless.
I come home, my soul somewhat soothed. And then I curl up surrounded by words and stories, snuggle my dog and/or the kids and I read.
And feel insanely rich.
I have an ereader. But as nice as it is to bring a library with me everywhere I go, nothing seems to compare to visiting the library and bringing a small selection home.
I run my fingers over the spines of the books. I fill my arms with books on whatever strikes my fancy. Often YA fantasy for an escapist read; but I'm also a fan of nonfiction. (My daughter calls these "end of the world books") I read classics. (I should read more classics than I do...) I look for something decadent, and something weighty to balance things out. I seek out well loved authors and unknowns. I choose them based on cover or because they've been on my To Be Read list or because I recognize the author. I snag books with interesting titles.
When I have a comforting load, I skim through movies.
I don't restrict myself. I choose something I've seen before...a lighthearted, feel good movie like Big or Fools Rush In. Or a feel good tearjerker like Titanic or just a plain old tearjerker like "My Sister's Keeper". Or something tense. Or something I haven't seen before.
The options are endless.
I come home, my soul somewhat soothed. And then I curl up surrounded by words and stories, snuggle my dog and/or the kids and I read.
And feel insanely rich.
I have an ereader. But as nice as it is to bring a library with me everywhere I go, nothing seems to compare to visiting the library and bringing a small selection home.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Some days, I wish I'd never learned to read. That I could unknow the stories, the facts, the questions...and the nonanswers to those questions.
I want to pull the wool over my eyes and focus on a small aspect of the world. Or maybe I want to hug my kids and hide on a deserted island, far away from the knowledge of global warming, GMOs and mandatory vaccination schedules (regardless of religious beliefs, and eliminating any questions from parents regarding safety and appropriateness).
What I really want to hide from, though, are the people discussing these items. Rather than a whole picture image, I see people discussing small aspects. I see severe judgements made based on tiny portions of information taken out of context.
We need to remember that all parents are parents. Regardless of income level, or education achieved, or time and effort they've put into researching the latest in parenting techniques, they area still parents. As such, most have their child's best interest in mind when they are making decisions.
What's more, each child is an individual and will respond differently or require different parenting tactics. Each child needs a different medical approach. A unique education based on their individual needs and learning styles and ability. There is no "one size fits all" approach to life. Neither is there a single approach to parenting, or health care, or lifestyles in general.
Whatever happened to mistakes being learning lessons? How does one grow as an individual if they aren't free to explore their personal beliefs, and to act on them? Presuming, of course, that the consequences of their actions are less likely to impact others than themselves.
We're so busy attacking the trees; we miss the forest. And then it's gone.
Come on, folks. Think. Respect. Trust.
Is that really so much to ask?
I want to pull the wool over my eyes and focus on a small aspect of the world. Or maybe I want to hug my kids and hide on a deserted island, far away from the knowledge of global warming, GMOs and mandatory vaccination schedules (regardless of religious beliefs, and eliminating any questions from parents regarding safety and appropriateness).
What I really want to hide from, though, are the people discussing these items. Rather than a whole picture image, I see people discussing small aspects. I see severe judgements made based on tiny portions of information taken out of context.
We need to remember that all parents are parents. Regardless of income level, or education achieved, or time and effort they've put into researching the latest in parenting techniques, they area still parents. As such, most have their child's best interest in mind when they are making decisions.
What's more, each child is an individual and will respond differently or require different parenting tactics. Each child needs a different medical approach. A unique education based on their individual needs and learning styles and ability. There is no "one size fits all" approach to life. Neither is there a single approach to parenting, or health care, or lifestyles in general.
Whatever happened to mistakes being learning lessons? How does one grow as an individual if they aren't free to explore their personal beliefs, and to act on them? Presuming, of course, that the consequences of their actions are less likely to impact others than themselves.
We're so busy attacking the trees; we miss the forest. And then it's gone.
Come on, folks. Think. Respect. Trust.
Is that really so much to ask?
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Sometimes I have to laugh...
I was advised that I should probably cut back on the red meat and soda.
Done...I don't eat red meat and haven't had a soda in 20 years.
The next suggestion was that maybe I should entirely cut out fast food and soda.
Again...done. I literally have not had a soda in 20 years or more.
"Or it could just be stress..."
Yup. That ubiquitous stress.
Honestly, I think it's all that chocolate I eat when I don't have time for a proper dinner. :-) I need to be nicer to my pancreas.
Done...I don't eat red meat and haven't had a soda in 20 years.
The next suggestion was that maybe I should entirely cut out fast food and soda.
Again...done. I literally have not had a soda in 20 years or more.
"Or it could just be stress..."
Yup. That ubiquitous stress.
Honestly, I think it's all that chocolate I eat when I don't have time for a proper dinner. :-) I need to be nicer to my pancreas.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Sometimes the road you think you're on takes you places you never expected to go.
When I had kids; I expected to send them off to school and go back to work...get a degree and do something "meaningful" in that time they were safely ensconced in learning. But one way or another, that didn't quite happen.
Slowly I pushed my aspirations back. I could go back to school; or get a good job, once they reached jr high...a stage where my presence would not be requested for parties or volunteer work; and where most kids are finding their own ways home or at least carpooling.
But some things don't work out the way you expect. 'The best laid plans' and all that jazz. Sometimes you find yourself living life backwards.
I never set out to be a homeschooler. I have great respect for homeschoolers. I loved the thought of homeschooling young kids. But, we had a phenomenal elementary school. A good middle school. A decent high school. We live in a fairly safe neighborhood. Test scores are great, and our kids are above average. Gifted, even.
There was no need to homeschool.
Until there was. And then there was no more debate, no more options. We tried everything, we ran into a lot of brick walls, and finally...clarity. Give up. Homeschool.
If I'd ever considered myself a homeschooler, I would have seen myself sending the kids back to school at the middle or high school level. Instead, I find myself scrambling to find lesson plans that meet both the state standards and unique needs.
I never meant to be a homeschooler. But here I am.
And it's paying off. I fear for the education my daughter is getting, but only because I feel inadequate in the face of her potential. And that fear is far outweighed by the shadows left by the public school system. It's not that I don't trust them...it's just that they were woefully unprepared for the beautiful disaster that is my child.
High test scores contrasted by emotional outbursts. Mature outlooks balanced by immature attitudes. The independence countered by tearful clinging long after her peers had let go. It didn't add up, it doesn't add up...it doesn't need to add up any more.
She simply is.
And I never imagined that by walking away from what should be, from the traditional road, would we finally start to find things that do make sense. Truths that were shrouded from us before as we were searching for answers.
Gifted kids are quirky. It's not a problem, or a question, or even a concern. It's just a fact.
The only question left is...why didn't anyone clue us in sooner? We'd have saved so much heartbreak and sleepless nights if we knew that these were normal aspects of gifted kids.
Gifted sometimes doesn't feel like a gift. But understanding is.
When I had kids; I expected to send them off to school and go back to work...get a degree and do something "meaningful" in that time they were safely ensconced in learning. But one way or another, that didn't quite happen.
Slowly I pushed my aspirations back. I could go back to school; or get a good job, once they reached jr high...a stage where my presence would not be requested for parties or volunteer work; and where most kids are finding their own ways home or at least carpooling.
But some things don't work out the way you expect. 'The best laid plans' and all that jazz. Sometimes you find yourself living life backwards.
I never set out to be a homeschooler. I have great respect for homeschoolers. I loved the thought of homeschooling young kids. But, we had a phenomenal elementary school. A good middle school. A decent high school. We live in a fairly safe neighborhood. Test scores are great, and our kids are above average. Gifted, even.
There was no need to homeschool.
Until there was. And then there was no more debate, no more options. We tried everything, we ran into a lot of brick walls, and finally...clarity. Give up. Homeschool.
If I'd ever considered myself a homeschooler, I would have seen myself sending the kids back to school at the middle or high school level. Instead, I find myself scrambling to find lesson plans that meet both the state standards and unique needs.
I never meant to be a homeschooler. But here I am.
And it's paying off. I fear for the education my daughter is getting, but only because I feel inadequate in the face of her potential. And that fear is far outweighed by the shadows left by the public school system. It's not that I don't trust them...it's just that they were woefully unprepared for the beautiful disaster that is my child.
High test scores contrasted by emotional outbursts. Mature outlooks balanced by immature attitudes. The independence countered by tearful clinging long after her peers had let go. It didn't add up, it doesn't add up...it doesn't need to add up any more.
She simply is.
And I never imagined that by walking away from what should be, from the traditional road, would we finally start to find things that do make sense. Truths that were shrouded from us before as we were searching for answers.
Gifted kids are quirky. It's not a problem, or a question, or even a concern. It's just a fact.
The only question left is...why didn't anyone clue us in sooner? We'd have saved so much heartbreak and sleepless nights if we knew that these were normal aspects of gifted kids.
Gifted sometimes doesn't feel like a gift. But understanding is.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Putting the Happy back in Halloween
If you're reading this blog, you know that we have food allergies in our house.
Lots of food allergies.
Okay, maybe not THAT many food allergies. But it's enough to throw a damper on anyone's candy-tabulous, sugarlicious, Trick or Treat-a-thon. At this point, my kids are starting to outgrow the treats, and too sophisticated for the tricks. We geek out on costumes, we pull out a few favorite movies, like The Great Pumpkin, and we have our own treats. (Okay, so Bumblebee is still young enough to trick or treat a little bit, and Penguin might sneak out as well. If her friends are going in a group, she's been left out enough.) But the main focus of the night is no longer the loot. It's the fun.
However, there is a new trend that would have made the early days so. much. easier.
It's called the Teal Pumpkin Project. It's about allergy awareness, but it's so much cooler than some of the allergy aware projects I've seen in the past. The main concept is that people offering allergy friendly fare put a teal pumpkin out front. That way, parents of kids with dietary restrictions can scope out the safe houses and plan their route accordingly.
It doesn't stop there though. My favorite part of this project is that it wants to include all kids with dietary restrictions for any reason. So...the teal pumpkin doesn't just mean allergy friendly candy. (Because who knows what kids might be allergic to? Beet coloring, yellow #5, corn syrup, chocolate...Or candy that is typically safe might not be safe in treat sized packages due to the way holiday candy is processed.)
Teal pumpkins on the front porch mean that this house offers NON FOOD TREATS.
That's right. Those pencils and toothbrushes that teens wearing fangs and a five o'clock shadow spurn? Kids with food allergies love 'em...they get to actually keep those treats. They also like whistles, bubbles, mardi gras beads, glow sticks, and anything you find in the party store. Used books can be a hit too...some libraries offer 'Friends of..." booksales where you stuff a bag with as many picture books and easy readers (and whatever else) that you want for only a few dollars. Offer them up at Halloween, and then donate the leftovers to the next sale...you'll have saved candy money and maybe even inspired a few kids to read.
You can put out a teal pumpkin and still offer candy. Just make sure that there are also non food treats.
If you don't want to start this year, there's another benefit to the whole non-food treat thing...they won't grow moldy in storage. So stock up in November and stuff your extras away with the Halloween decorations. And next year...put out a teal pumpkin or two. Most kids won't know or care, they'll choose whatever they want and go on their way. But the few who do need to be cautious, will appreciate that little plastic toy in ways you can't begin to believe. Because it's a way they can be included without noticing that they're different. :-)
Which means that the most stressful, tear inducing holiday for many food allergy kids can be happy again.
Happy Halloween!
Lots of food allergies.
Okay, maybe not THAT many food allergies. But it's enough to throw a damper on anyone's candy-tabulous, sugarlicious, Trick or Treat-a-thon. At this point, my kids are starting to outgrow the treats, and too sophisticated for the tricks. We geek out on costumes, we pull out a few favorite movies, like The Great Pumpkin, and we have our own treats. (Okay, so Bumblebee is still young enough to trick or treat a little bit, and Penguin might sneak out as well. If her friends are going in a group, she's been left out enough.) But the main focus of the night is no longer the loot. It's the fun.
However, there is a new trend that would have made the early days so. much. easier.
It's called the Teal Pumpkin Project. It's about allergy awareness, but it's so much cooler than some of the allergy aware projects I've seen in the past. The main concept is that people offering allergy friendly fare put a teal pumpkin out front. That way, parents of kids with dietary restrictions can scope out the safe houses and plan their route accordingly.
It doesn't stop there though. My favorite part of this project is that it wants to include all kids with dietary restrictions for any reason. So...the teal pumpkin doesn't just mean allergy friendly candy. (Because who knows what kids might be allergic to? Beet coloring, yellow #5, corn syrup, chocolate...Or candy that is typically safe might not be safe in treat sized packages due to the way holiday candy is processed.)
Teal pumpkins on the front porch mean that this house offers NON FOOD TREATS.
That's right. Those pencils and toothbrushes that teens wearing fangs and a five o'clock shadow spurn? Kids with food allergies love 'em...they get to actually keep those treats. They also like whistles, bubbles, mardi gras beads, glow sticks, and anything you find in the party store. Used books can be a hit too...some libraries offer 'Friends of..." booksales where you stuff a bag with as many picture books and easy readers (and whatever else) that you want for only a few dollars. Offer them up at Halloween, and then donate the leftovers to the next sale...you'll have saved candy money and maybe even inspired a few kids to read.
You can put out a teal pumpkin and still offer candy. Just make sure that there are also non food treats.
If you don't want to start this year, there's another benefit to the whole non-food treat thing...they won't grow moldy in storage. So stock up in November and stuff your extras away with the Halloween decorations. And next year...put out a teal pumpkin or two. Most kids won't know or care, they'll choose whatever they want and go on their way. But the few who do need to be cautious, will appreciate that little plastic toy in ways you can't begin to believe. Because it's a way they can be included without noticing that they're different. :-)
Which means that the most stressful, tear inducing holiday for many food allergy kids can be happy again.
Happy Halloween!
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
I've been sitting a lot lately. In public parks, in waiting rooms, even at the dog park. I can't help eavesdropping. It's not even eavesdropping...I'm in plain sight, and greet the people around me, then sit. And listen.
I find that no matter the age of the people around me, conversations often turn to the same thing. Other people.
It's amazing how easy it is to bond over the criticism of a mutual friend. Clothes, spending, parenting (or dog training) techniques, are all up for judgement.
And then, invariably, the victim shows up and is greeted with open arms.
I suppose this is part of human nature. And maybe I'm just more aware of it because October is Bully Free month. Or maybe it's because our Girl Scout troop is focusing on dealing with bullies in our lives.
I know I've been there. Done the same type of thing. I've been the topic of conversation more than once. I've even had people strike up a conversation about me at the same table I'm sitting at. Which can be as amusing as it is uncomfortable.
Lately, I can't help but notice how...high school it all is.
Perhaps we never really outgrow high school. But maybe, just maybe we should.
Which is why I'm making a conscious effort to be nicer to those I know who are a victim of these conversations. And I'm (trying) to keep my discussions about others positive. Acknowledging quirks, accepting differences, and sending out prayers that they have peace, or support, or whatever is appropriate.
It's what I want my kids to do. It's what I want them to emulate. It's my little way to be the change, for whatever it's worth.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Stress, Cause or Effect? A Few Thoughts
I need to start by reiterating that I am not a doctor. Just a human being, living and learning and reading and experiencing. And, of course, sharing some of those experiences here, on a publicly accessed page. (Wow, what am I thinking?)
Stress. From a dictionary perspective, stress is related to strain or pressure. This pressure can be physical (Like lifting a heavy sofa will strain various muscles) or it could be emotional. From a medical perspective, stress seems to be a trigger and/or a scapegoat. Any number of ailments can be related to stress; health issues can also cause stress. Relieving stress through meditation, or yoga, or simply by taking better care of your body can improve many symptoms that don't seem to have any other cause.
However, stress can be a complicated answer.
The symptoms of stress, according to Mayo Clinic, include fatigue, headache and stomach upset. All of these, in varying degrees, are also symptoms related to food allergies and other issues.
Ironically, if you dig deeper, food allergies and Celiac Disease can be triggered by stress. But once the mechanism is turned on in your body, no amount of meditation or yoga will turn it off again. Same goes with food allergies. Once that switch is flipped, the medical condition is yours for life. You can manage it, and stress management techniques will help. But, you will have lifelong dietary restrictions.
There are people who are able to expand their diets once they get their symptoms under control. To my understanding, there are a couple of reasons for this. The most important is that they do not have true allergies (or Celiac). I've discussed allergies before. They're caused by the body identifying normal proteins as threats, and sending out the firing squad. Your symptoms are your body being caught in the crossfire.
Foods can cause symptoms without there being a clinical reason like allergies or Celiac Disease. Some foods are innately hard on the digestive tract. Some people eat when they're stressed, or focus on specific foods when they feel stressed out. Since stress dampens the digestive process, and can cause digestive distress, stress-foods might become associated with discomfort when it's the stress that's to blame.
How do you know the difference? Honestly...it's hard. But, as long as you can keep a varied diet there is no reason you shouldn't avoid a suspect food. Even if it's a big food group like milk. (There are other sources of calcium.) The key is to keep your diet balanced. That means plenty of vegetables and multiple protein sources, as well as fruit and a couple of grains. Sometimes I wonder if people get better when they start avoiding certain foods just because they are now looking more closely at their diets and making better choices. It's certainly a possibility.
Likewise, no matter how much adjusting you do to your diet, it never hurts to do some stress reduction. Yoga. Meditation. Long walks in the woods. None of those include any potential trigger foods, and they'll all help you look at the bigger picture and live a more full life.
With or without specific food groups.
Stress. From a dictionary perspective, stress is related to strain or pressure. This pressure can be physical (Like lifting a heavy sofa will strain various muscles) or it could be emotional. From a medical perspective, stress seems to be a trigger and/or a scapegoat. Any number of ailments can be related to stress; health issues can also cause stress. Relieving stress through meditation, or yoga, or simply by taking better care of your body can improve many symptoms that don't seem to have any other cause.
However, stress can be a complicated answer.
The symptoms of stress, according to Mayo Clinic, include fatigue, headache and stomach upset. All of these, in varying degrees, are also symptoms related to food allergies and other issues.
Ironically, if you dig deeper, food allergies and Celiac Disease can be triggered by stress. But once the mechanism is turned on in your body, no amount of meditation or yoga will turn it off again. Same goes with food allergies. Once that switch is flipped, the medical condition is yours for life. You can manage it, and stress management techniques will help. But, you will have lifelong dietary restrictions.
There are people who are able to expand their diets once they get their symptoms under control. To my understanding, there are a couple of reasons for this. The most important is that they do not have true allergies (or Celiac). I've discussed allergies before. They're caused by the body identifying normal proteins as threats, and sending out the firing squad. Your symptoms are your body being caught in the crossfire.
Foods can cause symptoms without there being a clinical reason like allergies or Celiac Disease. Some foods are innately hard on the digestive tract. Some people eat when they're stressed, or focus on specific foods when they feel stressed out. Since stress dampens the digestive process, and can cause digestive distress, stress-foods might become associated with discomfort when it's the stress that's to blame.
How do you know the difference? Honestly...it's hard. But, as long as you can keep a varied diet there is no reason you shouldn't avoid a suspect food. Even if it's a big food group like milk. (There are other sources of calcium.) The key is to keep your diet balanced. That means plenty of vegetables and multiple protein sources, as well as fruit and a couple of grains. Sometimes I wonder if people get better when they start avoiding certain foods just because they are now looking more closely at their diets and making better choices. It's certainly a possibility.
Likewise, no matter how much adjusting you do to your diet, it never hurts to do some stress reduction. Yoga. Meditation. Long walks in the woods. None of those include any potential trigger foods, and they'll all help you look at the bigger picture and live a more full life.
With or without specific food groups.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
My daughter looks at me with reproach, tears glistening on her cheeks.
I'm putting dinner away. It comprised of (gluten free) pasta, a stir fry involving onions, garlic, spinach and eggplant, and a couple of chopped up turkey burgers, with parmesan and canned red sauce on the side. (The kids don't like homemade red sauce) There was also the option of salad, but no one was interested.
"I'm hungry!"
There's still plenty here, if you'd like.
"Why don't we ever eat REAL food?"
What do you mean?
"We don't have any real food in this house."
What is real food?
"You know...stuff you don't have to wash, or cut or cook or 'prepare'."
I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Like crackers. Or cereal. Or yoghurt. Or pizza."
Those aren't necessarily 'real' food.
"Normal people think it is!"
Um, okay.
For the record, all of the things she cited, except for pizza, are in my fridge or cupboards. They just aren't full of artificial colors. Making them...fake, I guess?
Kids are weird.
I'm putting dinner away. It comprised of (gluten free) pasta, a stir fry involving onions, garlic, spinach and eggplant, and a couple of chopped up turkey burgers, with parmesan and canned red sauce on the side. (The kids don't like homemade red sauce) There was also the option of salad, but no one was interested.
"I'm hungry!"
There's still plenty here, if you'd like.
"Why don't we ever eat REAL food?"
What do you mean?
"We don't have any real food in this house."
What is real food?
"You know...stuff you don't have to wash, or cut or cook or 'prepare'."
I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Like crackers. Or cereal. Or yoghurt. Or pizza."
Those aren't necessarily 'real' food.
"Normal people think it is!"
Um, okay.
For the record, all of the things she cited, except for pizza, are in my fridge or cupboards. They just aren't full of artificial colors. Making them...fake, I guess?
Kids are weird.
Monday, June 30, 2014
I've come to accept that sometimes, people who are aware of my allergies still forget. And that's okay. But recently, it came up. An out of the blue, "Really? Are you serious?" from someone who knows, or should know, that I have to be careful to the point of being extreme. I can't eat that. I can't eat this. I can't be in the same house as popping corn. It wasn't a big deal.
In fact, it wasn't a big deal to the point of them making it into a big deal. (Really, I was already on to another subject.) But then they finally came to terms with it by shrugging and saying I was always an au natural kind of girl.
Granola mom. Grapenuts. Tree hugger.
It gave me a jolt. I mean, I always recycled. But I grew up in California and it was sort of beaten over our heads in elementary school, by the tree hugger parents and new environmental curriculum teachers. Reduce, reuse recycle. Trim those 6 pack soda plastic holders.
I never was crazy about neon-colored food; it still amazes me that some people are. The rest I do because of allergies. Don't I?
I mean, I shave my legs. I used to wear a little bit of makeup. Paint my nails.
I've given some of that up. Partly from the allergies (Do you know how expensive it is to find makeup free of my specific allergens? I still need to track down sunscreen.) Partly from life...it takes too much energy to worry about it. Partly it's just me. I don't feel a *need* to sit in front of the mirror and enhance my face.
Huh. Maybe I am a crunchy, grapenuts, tree-hugging granola mom.
Having unique food allergies has made me much more aware of the world around me, the political side of our food supply and my personal carbon footprint. I'm not to the extreme that some people are in, and I think it might be because I'm not inherently crunchy.
Then again, maybe I am. I inherently want to reduce our carbon footprint and protect our food supply. I want natural, organic, pesticide free food. I want farm fresh, local produce. I want my kids to see the woods, and animals roaming free, and know where food comes from. (Not the grocery store.)
On the other hand, I like little rubber duckies, and cute paper plates for birthday parties, and a variety of not-so Earth friendly possessions.
Which came first? Crunchy or not?
I suppose it's all about awareness. Without awareness, I wouldn't know how to make informed decisions or how to protect the Earth. I wouldn't make 'better' choices because I wouldn't know the impact of my "worse" choices.
Without the allergies, I wouldn't have awareness. And while I wish I didn't know a lot of what I do know, in the end I'm better for it. Regardless of when the change occurred, I am the Granola Mom. (Although, I'm allergic to granola, too.) :P
In fact, it wasn't a big deal to the point of them making it into a big deal. (Really, I was already on to another subject.) But then they finally came to terms with it by shrugging and saying I was always an au natural kind of girl.
Granola mom. Grapenuts. Tree hugger.
It gave me a jolt. I mean, I always recycled. But I grew up in California and it was sort of beaten over our heads in elementary school, by the tree hugger parents and new environmental curriculum teachers. Reduce, reuse recycle. Trim those 6 pack soda plastic holders.
I never was crazy about neon-colored food; it still amazes me that some people are. The rest I do because of allergies. Don't I?
I mean, I shave my legs. I used to wear a little bit of makeup. Paint my nails.
I've given some of that up. Partly from the allergies (Do you know how expensive it is to find makeup free of my specific allergens? I still need to track down sunscreen.) Partly from life...it takes too much energy to worry about it. Partly it's just me. I don't feel a *need* to sit in front of the mirror and enhance my face.
Huh. Maybe I am a crunchy, grapenuts, tree-hugging granola mom.
Having unique food allergies has made me much more aware of the world around me, the political side of our food supply and my personal carbon footprint. I'm not to the extreme that some people are in, and I think it might be because I'm not inherently crunchy.
Then again, maybe I am. I inherently want to reduce our carbon footprint and protect our food supply. I want natural, organic, pesticide free food. I want farm fresh, local produce. I want my kids to see the woods, and animals roaming free, and know where food comes from. (Not the grocery store.)
On the other hand, I like little rubber duckies, and cute paper plates for birthday parties, and a variety of not-so Earth friendly possessions.
Which came first? Crunchy or not?
I suppose it's all about awareness. Without awareness, I wouldn't know how to make informed decisions or how to protect the Earth. I wouldn't make 'better' choices because I wouldn't know the impact of my "worse" choices.
Without the allergies, I wouldn't have awareness. And while I wish I didn't know a lot of what I do know, in the end I'm better for it. Regardless of when the change occurred, I am the Granola Mom. (Although, I'm allergic to granola, too.) :P
Monday, January 13, 2014
Stress
When I began this blog, I was frustrated by the phrase "Maybe it's just stress..." The doctors seemed to use it randomly, as a fall back, meaningless phrase to excuse the fact that they didn't know the answer. It was a way to withdraw pressure from them and place blame back on the patient. Not only do you feel awful, it's your own fault you feel awful. You're too stressed and should have spent your copay on a good yoga class instead of this doctor visit.
For awhile, I believed them and strove for a more stress free life. (I felt awful. I alternated between worried I was dying and hoping for it. Not because I wanted to die, mind you, simply because the pain and discomfort was really and truly THAT bad. And all the doctors could do for me was say "Maybe it's just stress...") What kept me looking for an answer was the fact that, although life was stressful, I always felt like I was handling it. The most stressful moments came from my physical symptoms and the way they interfered with my real life.
And I found answers. I discovered that corn derivatives are evil for my body. I discovered that my immune system was attacking anything that remotely resembled a corn protein (or sugar) and was so smart that it didn't care what a label said. If there was corn in there, my stomach found it and attacked me for it. I discovered that gluten made my body fight back, too, though maybe not quite so hard. I developed, fought and recovered from H Pylori. I gained weight (in a good way).
Today, I'm actually functional.
I'm also under tremendous stress. Everywhere I turn with my daughter there are dollar signs. Or doctors saying that she needs things that cost more money (I'm sorry, but material items that will be disposed of in the short term are NOT needs. Classes that I don't even expect her to attend and have to drag her to kicking and screaming are NOT needs. Soda, candy, and single serving packages of junk food are NOT needs. Nutritional drinks masked as milkshakes might justifiably make the list if they didn't end up smashed against the wall because I've already gone and laid the groundwork of good nutrition over the first 8 or 9 years of her life.) The depression hit us hard. (I think the history books will consider the last 5 years a depression, even if there wasn't a specific defining day of beginning) I have a child with Anxiety (and depression, who acts out because we took too long to find her the labels and help she needed) and one with specific health conditions that need time, patience and treatment. I have a household to run, temper tantrums to clean up after, interesting neighbors in the neighborhood, food to prepare and spend so much time holding things together for others that I can't wedge in a few hours for a regular job, even if I were to find one that would take me, faults and all.
To call that stress sometimes seems like an understatement.
But I'm not losing weight. I'm not vomiting, or doubled over in pain. I get occasional tension headaches that I'm not thrilled with...but with my specially compounded pure over the counter strength acetaminophen, I can handle those.
And still, there are a few people (mostly doctors) who when asking about my history want to blow off the corn allergy as 'probably stress related symptoms'. I don't want to be bitter, or jaded, but it's my body. What I do or don't put in it should be my choice. I shouldn't need a doctors okay. But to take medication that doesn't attack me I need them to stay on my side. To get a note stating that I'm not being unreasonable when I bring my own food to an amusement park, or an airplane, or wherever they'd rather you buy food there, I need them on my side. To reduce my stress level...so that I can trust them to BE on my side if I ever do get to a point when I need some help that doesn't come from inner strength or a homegrown garden...I need them on my side.
The dismissive hand in the air when I remind them of the corn/dextrose allergy is NOT reassuring.
For awhile, I believed them and strove for a more stress free life. (I felt awful. I alternated between worried I was dying and hoping for it. Not because I wanted to die, mind you, simply because the pain and discomfort was really and truly THAT bad. And all the doctors could do for me was say "Maybe it's just stress...") What kept me looking for an answer was the fact that, although life was stressful, I always felt like I was handling it. The most stressful moments came from my physical symptoms and the way they interfered with my real life.
And I found answers. I discovered that corn derivatives are evil for my body. I discovered that my immune system was attacking anything that remotely resembled a corn protein (or sugar) and was so smart that it didn't care what a label said. If there was corn in there, my stomach found it and attacked me for it. I discovered that gluten made my body fight back, too, though maybe not quite so hard. I developed, fought and recovered from H Pylori. I gained weight (in a good way).
Today, I'm actually functional.
I'm also under tremendous stress. Everywhere I turn with my daughter there are dollar signs. Or doctors saying that she needs things that cost more money (I'm sorry, but material items that will be disposed of in the short term are NOT needs. Classes that I don't even expect her to attend and have to drag her to kicking and screaming are NOT needs. Soda, candy, and single serving packages of junk food are NOT needs. Nutritional drinks masked as milkshakes might justifiably make the list if they didn't end up smashed against the wall because I've already gone and laid the groundwork of good nutrition over the first 8 or 9 years of her life.) The depression hit us hard. (I think the history books will consider the last 5 years a depression, even if there wasn't a specific defining day of beginning) I have a child with Anxiety (and depression, who acts out because we took too long to find her the labels and help she needed) and one with specific health conditions that need time, patience and treatment. I have a household to run, temper tantrums to clean up after, interesting neighbors in the neighborhood, food to prepare and spend so much time holding things together for others that I can't wedge in a few hours for a regular job, even if I were to find one that would take me, faults and all.
To call that stress sometimes seems like an understatement.
But I'm not losing weight. I'm not vomiting, or doubled over in pain. I get occasional tension headaches that I'm not thrilled with...but with my specially compounded pure over the counter strength acetaminophen, I can handle those.
And still, there are a few people (mostly doctors) who when asking about my history want to blow off the corn allergy as 'probably stress related symptoms'. I don't want to be bitter, or jaded, but it's my body. What I do or don't put in it should be my choice. I shouldn't need a doctors okay. But to take medication that doesn't attack me I need them to stay on my side. To get a note stating that I'm not being unreasonable when I bring my own food to an amusement park, or an airplane, or wherever they'd rather you buy food there, I need them on my side. To reduce my stress level...so that I can trust them to BE on my side if I ever do get to a point when I need some help that doesn't come from inner strength or a homegrown garden...I need them on my side.
The dismissive hand in the air when I remind them of the corn/dextrose allergy is NOT reassuring.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Trying not to be a broken record
As 2013 winds to a close, I'm sitting here staring at a blank screen. A blog, full of triumphs and tribulations, and mostly frustrations. As I look back at the year, I'm not seeing anything particularly new or exciting to share. We survived. The economy is still impacting us, both actively and residually. Diets are nothing radically different, and bumblebee is still in the throws of putting one foot in front of the other. (Sometimes fighting the act quite valiantly.)
And I'm still depressed that I can not find safe chocolate chips in my price range. Perhaps ever again!
On the other hand, we have an amazing garden growing at my wonderful green-thumbed mom's house. Carrots, beets, arugula and kale...does it get any better than that? (Oh, yes it does!)
While we are still ironing out a few kinks (our cantaloupe froze) the kids dined on roasted pumpkin tonight. We've enjoyed zucchini soup. Kale chips. Beet green pilaf. And lots and lots of tomatoes over the past year. We're eagerly planning and looking forward to next year's crops! (And maybe some better preservation so the bounty lasts!)
The dog is kicking me into shape. Maybe I should say he's barking me into shape. We take nice long walks together, and he won't let me laze out of them. It's his job. His passion in life. His true purpose. Get me moving. Walking. Running. Whatever. He just likes to go. And he hates to go without me, because, you see...It's not him that needs the walk. It's me, really.
My daughters...the eldest makes me proud and bittersweet happy as she grows into a lovely young woman with her own thoughts and ideas and plans that I can no longer help sway one way or the other. She will be a force to reckon with in the world, once she's ready to be unleashed upon it. Meanwhile, she soaks up learning like a sponge, she sharpens her skills and looks up in disbelief as the world stares at her talents in awe.
The younger makes a practice of breaking my heart. She, too, will do great things...move mountains and raise armies and make a real difference in the world, if we can just get all of her energy focused forward and away from the anxieties that overtake her.
Someday perhaps we'll find all the answers we need for every last one of us, but in the meantime, maybe our goal isn't just to find those answers but to live without them.
Happy 2014 everyone. May this be the year that we all find the answers we need, or the patience we need as we wait for them.
And I'm still depressed that I can not find safe chocolate chips in my price range. Perhaps ever again!
On the other hand, we have an amazing garden growing at my wonderful green-thumbed mom's house. Carrots, beets, arugula and kale...does it get any better than that? (Oh, yes it does!) While we are still ironing out a few kinks (our cantaloupe froze) the kids dined on roasted pumpkin tonight. We've enjoyed zucchini soup. Kale chips. Beet green pilaf. And lots and lots of tomatoes over the past year. We're eagerly planning and looking forward to next year's crops! (And maybe some better preservation so the bounty lasts!)
The dog is kicking me into shape. Maybe I should say he's barking me into shape. We take nice long walks together, and he won't let me laze out of them. It's his job. His passion in life. His true purpose. Get me moving. Walking. Running. Whatever. He just likes to go. And he hates to go without me, because, you see...It's not him that needs the walk. It's me, really.
My daughters...the eldest makes me proud and bittersweet happy as she grows into a lovely young woman with her own thoughts and ideas and plans that I can no longer help sway one way or the other. She will be a force to reckon with in the world, once she's ready to be unleashed upon it. Meanwhile, she soaks up learning like a sponge, she sharpens her skills and looks up in disbelief as the world stares at her talents in awe.
The younger makes a practice of breaking my heart. She, too, will do great things...move mountains and raise armies and make a real difference in the world, if we can just get all of her energy focused forward and away from the anxieties that overtake her. Someday perhaps we'll find all the answers we need for every last one of us, but in the meantime, maybe our goal isn't just to find those answers but to live without them.
Happy 2014 everyone. May this be the year that we all find the answers we need, or the patience we need as we wait for them.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Eating Wrong
The trouble with following a specific dietary plan is that someone, everyone, has advice. Usually, they want to make sure you know...you're doing it wrong.
We're gluten free. At least, 2 of us are 100% gluten free. The other 2 are somewhere between partially and mostly gluten free.
Now, I must explain to you that there are multiple ways of following a gluten free diet. My way involves replacing traditional wheat based foods with whole grains and vegetables. Spaghetti squash, for example, might take the place of flour-based noodles.
I'll admit that it's easy to slip into a habit of using rice everywhere. Mostly because there are still a few digestive issues going on, and rice is cheap...and easy. But I use brown rice, or a blend of white and brown rice products to increase the fiber content. And both fruits and veggies are staples in our diet alongside beans and nut butter.
Our diet is relatively balanced. Except for my daughter who has anxiety issues surrounding food. Major, massive, heart pounding, scene stopping, "are you going to let her get away with that?" kind of anxiety issues surrounding food. In fact, she's managed to starve herself for days on end to avoid eating something that looks the least bit...not right. She needs help. And we're trying, so, so hard to get it. Oddly, our relatively healthy diet keeps getting in the way.
I want to share a recent conversation. I called, again, to talk, again, to an advice nurse about her tummy aches...again. Her doctor had prescribed a new dietary regimen, and her tummy aches changed in severity so I wanted to document it.
I got a spiel about fiber. Fine. I agree. Fiber is important. Then the nurse started in on an explanation about whole wheat and a list of specific brand names to look for. By this time, my daughter was whimpering again and I was frustrated (this isn't the first time I've ever called for a tummy ache issue. It isn't the first spiel on fiber, vegetables, the evils of soda, the woes of the Standard American Diet yadayadayada, and frankly...they're preaching to the choir.) so I cut her off and said "We're actually gluten free, but I'll keep an eye on her fiber intake. We usually are good about it, but with the recent changes and her picky eating I don't know exactly how much she's had lately."
The response was interesting. And infuriating.
"Why are you gluten free?"
"Some of us have Celiac and it's just easier to keep the house gluten free."
"Well, there's the problem! Ma'am, I'm not your doctor, but really, your daughter needs more wheat. There are very few people who really have Celiac Disease, and they suffer a lot, but most people are misdiagnosed. You know, the rest of your family might really benefit from adding wheat back to your diet. I just can't stress enough how important whole wheat is for good health."
At first, I was speechless. And then, as words began to form in my head...I had to bite my tongue. Take a deep breath. Count to ten.
There is nothing inherently necessary in anyone's diet. No one item is inherently vital to our health, except perhaps water. Wheat...wheat is a grain which happens to be dominant in our current food supply. It might be a source of fiber. But so are oats. Quinoa. Raisins. Brown rice. Buckwheat. And a thousand fruits and vegetables that may or may not end up on our plates at any given meal.
Wheat is not a necessary component of a healthy diet. In fact, some dieticians (the ones who do their research and keep up to date on actual studies and current understandings) might say that a truly healthy diet is a balance of a variety of foods including starch, proteins, plants and fats. Calcium rich foods should be included. No item should be used to the exclusion of other items.
Wheat? It's just convenient. Too convenient in most standard diets.
When I got to 10...and back down to 0...I interrupted her litany on the virtues of this single grain to ask exactly how much dietary fiber an 11 year old girl should be ingesting each day. She sputtered to a stop. "There isn't an exact number we just know that she isn't getting enough..." and then "...Well, ma'am, more whole wheat would really help her feel better..."
What minerals and nutrients, exactly, is she lacking that including wheat in her diet would improve?
"Well, I don't know, exactly, that's not the point. The point is that she really needs more wheat..."
She admitted she wasn't our doctor and didn't have the authority to diagnose us as being misdiagnosed...and then I cut her off as she began to defend her advice with speculations regarding the overdiagnosis of a condition that most estimates claim is grossly under diagnosed.
In the end, I made an office appointment and spoke to an actual medical professional. Who did not try to talk me out of a gluten free diet, but couldn't give me much advice either.
The problem, you see, is that we're eating wrong. I don't buy fast food or soda. The kids lack essential snack cakes, sprinkles and candy. Idiotically, I serve up glasses of water and encourage them to drink from a handy waterbottle instead of purchasing soda on our outings.
Clearly, if I were to feed them like their peers...at least we could sheepishly admit that we have things to work on. We'd have something to blame. The good old usual suspects.
When you don't have the usual suspects, and you're already gluten free, I think the medical community must feel a little lost. But don't quote me...I'm the one eating wrong.
And thriving.
(I just wish I could find the right wrong diet for my daughter.)
We're gluten free. At least, 2 of us are 100% gluten free. The other 2 are somewhere between partially and mostly gluten free.
Now, I must explain to you that there are multiple ways of following a gluten free diet. My way involves replacing traditional wheat based foods with whole grains and vegetables. Spaghetti squash, for example, might take the place of flour-based noodles.
I'll admit that it's easy to slip into a habit of using rice everywhere. Mostly because there are still a few digestive issues going on, and rice is cheap...and easy. But I use brown rice, or a blend of white and brown rice products to increase the fiber content. And both fruits and veggies are staples in our diet alongside beans and nut butter.
Our diet is relatively balanced. Except for my daughter who has anxiety issues surrounding food. Major, massive, heart pounding, scene stopping, "are you going to let her get away with that?" kind of anxiety issues surrounding food. In fact, she's managed to starve herself for days on end to avoid eating something that looks the least bit...not right. She needs help. And we're trying, so, so hard to get it. Oddly, our relatively healthy diet keeps getting in the way.
I want to share a recent conversation. I called, again, to talk, again, to an advice nurse about her tummy aches...again. Her doctor had prescribed a new dietary regimen, and her tummy aches changed in severity so I wanted to document it.
I got a spiel about fiber. Fine. I agree. Fiber is important. Then the nurse started in on an explanation about whole wheat and a list of specific brand names to look for. By this time, my daughter was whimpering again and I was frustrated (this isn't the first time I've ever called for a tummy ache issue. It isn't the first spiel on fiber, vegetables, the evils of soda, the woes of the Standard American Diet yadayadayada, and frankly...they're preaching to the choir.) so I cut her off and said "We're actually gluten free, but I'll keep an eye on her fiber intake. We usually are good about it, but with the recent changes and her picky eating I don't know exactly how much she's had lately."
The response was interesting. And infuriating.
"Why are you gluten free?"
"Some of us have Celiac and it's just easier to keep the house gluten free."
"Well, there's the problem! Ma'am, I'm not your doctor, but really, your daughter needs more wheat. There are very few people who really have Celiac Disease, and they suffer a lot, but most people are misdiagnosed. You know, the rest of your family might really benefit from adding wheat back to your diet. I just can't stress enough how important whole wheat is for good health."
At first, I was speechless. And then, as words began to form in my head...I had to bite my tongue. Take a deep breath. Count to ten.
There is nothing inherently necessary in anyone's diet. No one item is inherently vital to our health, except perhaps water. Wheat...wheat is a grain which happens to be dominant in our current food supply. It might be a source of fiber. But so are oats. Quinoa. Raisins. Brown rice. Buckwheat. And a thousand fruits and vegetables that may or may not end up on our plates at any given meal.
Wheat is not a necessary component of a healthy diet. In fact, some dieticians (the ones who do their research and keep up to date on actual studies and current understandings) might say that a truly healthy diet is a balance of a variety of foods including starch, proteins, plants and fats. Calcium rich foods should be included. No item should be used to the exclusion of other items.
Wheat? It's just convenient. Too convenient in most standard diets.
When I got to 10...and back down to 0...I interrupted her litany on the virtues of this single grain to ask exactly how much dietary fiber an 11 year old girl should be ingesting each day. She sputtered to a stop. "There isn't an exact number we just know that she isn't getting enough..." and then "...Well, ma'am, more whole wheat would really help her feel better..."
What minerals and nutrients, exactly, is she lacking that including wheat in her diet would improve?
"Well, I don't know, exactly, that's not the point. The point is that she really needs more wheat..."
She admitted she wasn't our doctor and didn't have the authority to diagnose us as being misdiagnosed...and then I cut her off as she began to defend her advice with speculations regarding the overdiagnosis of a condition that most estimates claim is grossly under diagnosed.
In the end, I made an office appointment and spoke to an actual medical professional. Who did not try to talk me out of a gluten free diet, but couldn't give me much advice either.
The problem, you see, is that we're eating wrong. I don't buy fast food or soda. The kids lack essential snack cakes, sprinkles and candy. Idiotically, I serve up glasses of water and encourage them to drink from a handy waterbottle instead of purchasing soda on our outings.
Clearly, if I were to feed them like their peers...at least we could sheepishly admit that we have things to work on. We'd have something to blame. The good old usual suspects.
When you don't have the usual suspects, and you're already gluten free, I think the medical community must feel a little lost. But don't quote me...I'm the one eating wrong.
And thriving.
(I just wish I could find the right wrong diet for my daughter.)
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
Thanksgiving, a little late
I've been having trouble feeling grateful lately. My daughter is still struggling. She has Anxiety Disorder, and it's not very well controlled at the moment. And to make matters worse, it sounds like something went wrong in her school records. So not only are we dealing with the repercussions of misunderstandings leading to contradictory therapy, there's no record of any of her issues to begin with.
Yikes.
But, this is a season of Thanksgiving. Not just Thanksgiving, but of miracles too. (It is, after all, Hanukkah)
So, I'm trying to think of all the things I have to be thankful for. And I've hit on one in particular.
It's hard to deal with anxiety as a kid. It's hard to have panic attacks where you can't breathe and your tummy hurts. And then, you can't help but snap at your friends.
When kids are in middle school, it's hard just to be different. Different kids get picked on. It's not okay to cry. It's not cool to be seen with your mom. In other words, anxiety disorders and middle school kids really don't mix. They're like water and oil.
But some kids in middle school struggle. Some struggle openly.
Today, I'm grateful for the parents who take the time to try to help their kids understand how hard it is to be different. The ones who help their kids continue to be a friend to mine, even when she's not able to reciprocate very well.
I'm thankful for the continued birthday invitations, and playdate offers. The understanding waves. The heartfelt notes that invite my child over, and preface understanding that she may back out at the last minute.
I'm grateful for the look of concern, followed by confident voices because adults we know have learned the best way to react for her sake.
I suppose, in short, I'm grateful for true friends.
Yikes.
But, this is a season of Thanksgiving. Not just Thanksgiving, but of miracles too. (It is, after all, Hanukkah)
So, I'm trying to think of all the things I have to be thankful for. And I've hit on one in particular.
It's hard to deal with anxiety as a kid. It's hard to have panic attacks where you can't breathe and your tummy hurts. And then, you can't help but snap at your friends.
When kids are in middle school, it's hard just to be different. Different kids get picked on. It's not okay to cry. It's not cool to be seen with your mom. In other words, anxiety disorders and middle school kids really don't mix. They're like water and oil.
But some kids in middle school struggle. Some struggle openly.
Today, I'm grateful for the parents who take the time to try to help their kids understand how hard it is to be different. The ones who help their kids continue to be a friend to mine, even when she's not able to reciprocate very well.
I'm thankful for the continued birthday invitations, and playdate offers. The understanding waves. The heartfelt notes that invite my child over, and preface understanding that she may back out at the last minute.
I'm grateful for the look of concern, followed by confident voices because adults we know have learned the best way to react for her sake.
I suppose, in short, I'm grateful for true friends.
Saturday, November 02, 2013
I think I'm in a fanciful mood today. There are so many news stories, sad stories about girls who are lost. In one way or another, they can't (or couldn't) find their way. So many different reporters speculating on what went wrong and the sad state of society...or just looking for sensationalism.
I have a teenager and a tween daughter.
Although I've tried to prepare them for life, to be strong and stand tall...these news stories worry me.
So today I'm sending a fanciful, wordy, description-filled (mostly bad metaphores) to a hub that's meant to be female empowering.
http://hub.me/afzMk
If only every girl in the world knew...without a doubt that she were worthy and strong and beautiful; regardless of the bullies who might tell her otherwise.
I have a teenager and a tween daughter.
Although I've tried to prepare them for life, to be strong and stand tall...these news stories worry me.
So today I'm sending a fanciful, wordy, description-filled (mostly bad metaphores) to a hub that's meant to be female empowering.
http://hub.me/afzMk
If only every girl in the world knew...without a doubt that she were worthy and strong and beautiful; regardless of the bullies who might tell her otherwise.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
They say that life never hands you more than you can handle. But some days, it feels like someone's miscalculating. Between the hit from the economy and the healthcare crunch, the dietary demands and the increased cost of gas...And the special issues that come with raising a quirky kid; especially after years of detrimental 'therapy'; it's really hard sometimes.
That's when my faith is strongest. Because frankly, I can't do it alone.
But this wasn't going to be a religious post. What I wanted to say, was that after all those years of doctors' stroking their chins and shrugging their shoulders and suggesting that 'Maybe it's just stress...' I'm sitting here under more stress than I feel like I can handle alone.
And guess what? I don't feel like I'm dying. My stomach isn't objecting to the calories I provide it with (whether or not those calories are nourishing.) I'm not huddled up with a heating pad. I'm still functioning. I've been living a life as a security blanket, making ever increasing to do lists in my brain, and I'm still walking. I'm sitting in meetings. I'm interacting with other people, and the only possible reason that I feel like I'm exploding are the need to be two places at once and the strong, desperate desire to be at home catching up on the things that desperately need catching up on. Things that can't be done in the 15 minutes here and there that I get to myself these days.
Even feeling torn in two, struggling to make ends meet while we struggle to find the right solution for those of us still struggling...I feel healthy. And I wouldn't trade THAT for a box of pizza or an empty sink.
That's when my faith is strongest. Because frankly, I can't do it alone.
But this wasn't going to be a religious post. What I wanted to say, was that after all those years of doctors' stroking their chins and shrugging their shoulders and suggesting that 'Maybe it's just stress...' I'm sitting here under more stress than I feel like I can handle alone.
And guess what? I don't feel like I'm dying. My stomach isn't objecting to the calories I provide it with (whether or not those calories are nourishing.) I'm not huddled up with a heating pad. I'm still functioning. I've been living a life as a security blanket, making ever increasing to do lists in my brain, and I'm still walking. I'm sitting in meetings. I'm interacting with other people, and the only possible reason that I feel like I'm exploding are the need to be two places at once and the strong, desperate desire to be at home catching up on the things that desperately need catching up on. Things that can't be done in the 15 minutes here and there that I get to myself these days.
Even feeling torn in two, struggling to make ends meet while we struggle to find the right solution for those of us still struggling...I feel healthy. And I wouldn't trade THAT for a box of pizza or an empty sink.
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