"So, Penguin, what's the best thing that happened today?"
I'm regaled with an account of being lunch helper and...guess what? We're having an ice cream party!
"Um, awesome. When?"
Tomorrow.
"Oh. Do I need to bring something?"
Shrug.
"Do they know that you're dairy free and gluten free?"
Face falls.
"Okay, well, who's organizing it? I'll call and make sure that you get something too."
I don't know. The lunch people, I think. The kids know I have food allergies.
"I see. Is there something I can do?"
No.
"I'm sorry kiddo. So, um, what's the worst thing that happened today?"
Pause. We're having an ice cream party.
I feel like a rotten parent. :-(
(This exchange occurred on Thursday. Luckily, she got a juice bar that was free of all allergens including dye. She was walking on air, and I'm happy to report...so was I.)
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Science Fair Fun
Third, fourth and fifth graders in my daughter's school are required to do "proper" science projects. Most anyone who has kids knows what this really means. It's code-speak for "Parents, get ready to stress out!"
My inlaws have some great pictures of my husband at Penguin's age. He's sitting at a table, looking increasingly bored as the montage continues. His dad is sitting beside him, fiddling with wires and screws while his big brother occasionally takes part.
We've decided not to let the same thing happen in our house.
That doesn't mean that science fair is easy. In fact, it might be even harder when I can't just take care of some part of the project that needs to get done...I have to walk Penguin through it while her sister whines that it just isn't fair. But, it gets done (Whether it gets done "right" or "well" or "the way I'd have done it" is a different story. I'm learning to let go of my image of right, and let her do it her way. If nothing else, at least the judges can tell it was obviously done by a kid.)
Anyways, she chose an interesting subject this year. One that I was eager to help participate in. She wanted to do something that would help tie in food allergies; although obviously food allergies are not exactly a scientific experiment a young girl can design. She settled on recreating a project that was referenced on Delphi's Celiac Disease Support group about a year ago. In that project, high school students borrowed colanders and such from gluten eaters and tested them for the presence of starch using iodine.
We didn't want to collect colanders. We also didn't want gluten in the house. Our final design involved using wooden spoons to make rice (although rice does not contain gluten, it's a starchy grain. The starch would show up if present. If the spoons are holding grains, they'll hold flour. And flour has starch AND gluten.) She settled on the unpretentious question "Is there a way to wash all the starch off of a spoon?" She tested by making rice (Er, having Mom make rice and then stir it thoroughly with a spoon) Testing the spoon as a "control". Yep, it was starchy. She rinsed all the rice off the spoon. Still starchy, which surprised her a little.
The big one was the final test of washing it with soap and water. To our surprise, there was still small amounts of starchy purple flecks floating around in the water. No matter how well we washed the spoon, we still could find bits of starch in that water. This means that nutritionists and those crazy, zealous gluten haters are right...you do, indeed, need to dispose of your old glutened wooden spoons after going gluten free. Starch remains, and where there are bits of flour (starch) there is gluten (protein).
Intriguingly, the prior experiment that this was based on showed that items like colanders could be cleaned thoroughly enough for there to be no remaining starch. It makes use wonder if one of the experiments was done incorrectly (we did find that it was easier to see results when we stirred the water and transferred 2 TBS to a small, clear bowl before adding iodine. This necessitated less iodine to see starch in the control.) Or if wooden utensils just had more big pores for starch to hide out in. Obviously...as a kitchen test done by a 10 year old with a sketchy (at best) understanding of what she was doing, the experiment bears repeating again and again. But, she did prove that there's good reason to investigate the issue. And that the zealots have merit.
Just for fun we tested some clean spoons from other kitchens, and they had bits of purply starch in them, too.
I really think this could apply across the board to other allergies as well...can nut protein hide out in wood? Dairy? Obviously, I won't use my spoon to cook for my friend's rice-allergic son. But I will still use it for safe recipes...after all, studies show that germs just don't live as long on wood as they do on plastic. And I'd rather have flecks of old rice that germs!
My inlaws have some great pictures of my husband at Penguin's age. He's sitting at a table, looking increasingly bored as the montage continues. His dad is sitting beside him, fiddling with wires and screws while his big brother occasionally takes part.
We've decided not to let the same thing happen in our house.
That doesn't mean that science fair is easy. In fact, it might be even harder when I can't just take care of some part of the project that needs to get done...I have to walk Penguin through it while her sister whines that it just isn't fair. But, it gets done (Whether it gets done "right" or "well" or "the way I'd have done it" is a different story. I'm learning to let go of my image of right, and let her do it her way. If nothing else, at least the judges can tell it was obviously done by a kid.)
Anyways, she chose an interesting subject this year. One that I was eager to help participate in. She wanted to do something that would help tie in food allergies; although obviously food allergies are not exactly a scientific experiment a young girl can design. She settled on recreating a project that was referenced on Delphi's Celiac Disease Support group about a year ago. In that project, high school students borrowed colanders and such from gluten eaters and tested them for the presence of starch using iodine.
We didn't want to collect colanders. We also didn't want gluten in the house. Our final design involved using wooden spoons to make rice (although rice does not contain gluten, it's a starchy grain. The starch would show up if present. If the spoons are holding grains, they'll hold flour. And flour has starch AND gluten.) She settled on the unpretentious question "Is there a way to wash all the starch off of a spoon?" She tested by making rice (Er, having Mom make rice and then stir it thoroughly with a spoon) Testing the spoon as a "control". Yep, it was starchy. She rinsed all the rice off the spoon. Still starchy, which surprised her a little.
The big one was the final test of washing it with soap and water. To our surprise, there was still small amounts of starchy purple flecks floating around in the water. No matter how well we washed the spoon, we still could find bits of starch in that water. This means that nutritionists and those crazy, zealous gluten haters are right...you do, indeed, need to dispose of your old glutened wooden spoons after going gluten free. Starch remains, and where there are bits of flour (starch) there is gluten (protein).
Intriguingly, the prior experiment that this was based on showed that items like colanders could be cleaned thoroughly enough for there to be no remaining starch. It makes use wonder if one of the experiments was done incorrectly (we did find that it was easier to see results when we stirred the water and transferred 2 TBS to a small, clear bowl before adding iodine. This necessitated less iodine to see starch in the control.) Or if wooden utensils just had more big pores for starch to hide out in. Obviously...as a kitchen test done by a 10 year old with a sketchy (at best) understanding of what she was doing, the experiment bears repeating again and again. But, she did prove that there's good reason to investigate the issue. And that the zealots have merit.
Just for fun we tested some clean spoons from other kitchens, and they had bits of purply starch in them, too.
I really think this could apply across the board to other allergies as well...can nut protein hide out in wood? Dairy? Obviously, I won't use my spoon to cook for my friend's rice-allergic son. But I will still use it for safe recipes...after all, studies show that germs just don't live as long on wood as they do on plastic. And I'd rather have flecks of old rice that germs!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
My daughter's a hero; or...It's okay to break into your own house.
Sometimes in parenthood; you find yourself encouraging the strangest behavior.
Today was one of those times. We finally arrived home from school; laden down with backpacks, undelivered girl scout cookies and a science fair backboard. While balancing these items in my arms and hollering for the girls to please lock the car when they finally manage to get themselves extracted...I realized that the gate simply wasn't going to open.
I pushed. I prodded. I jiggled the chain. The chain was loose. In fact; it was only attached to my end of the pulley. Which meant, the 6 foot fence was locked up tight.
What to do?
I did what any good parent would do. I sent my 10 year old up there to investigate. She willingly climbed the wall next to the gate, and then balked. It's a long ways down.
But, there was no choice. I was not in climbing clothes. She's young, she's spry, and she was going to do it. I called encouraging remarks and walked along the wall with my hand out to steady her (my side was cement, the other side was grass and clover.) I tried to get her to let herself down onto one of the lawnchairs, but it was a no go. She would have jumped into the raised bed (filled with bermuda grass) but someone (probably me) left a garden claw sticking up out of it.
Finally she managed to maneuver herself down along the other side of the fence, repeating "I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared" as her sister repeated the same refrain...but adding in "We're going to get in trouble!"
The men at the gas station nearby were amused. Or confused. I'm not sure which.
My exasperated "You're allowed to break into your own house!" was met with chuckles.
And then she was down, and manipulated the latch, and we were in.
"I'm a hero!" she proclaimed.
Yup. She's a hero. And I'm proud to say very unlikely to ever embark in a career of criminal activity.
Today was one of those times. We finally arrived home from school; laden down with backpacks, undelivered girl scout cookies and a science fair backboard. While balancing these items in my arms and hollering for the girls to please lock the car when they finally manage to get themselves extracted...I realized that the gate simply wasn't going to open.
I pushed. I prodded. I jiggled the chain. The chain was loose. In fact; it was only attached to my end of the pulley. Which meant, the 6 foot fence was locked up tight.
What to do?
I did what any good parent would do. I sent my 10 year old up there to investigate. She willingly climbed the wall next to the gate, and then balked. It's a long ways down.
But, there was no choice. I was not in climbing clothes. She's young, she's spry, and she was going to do it. I called encouraging remarks and walked along the wall with my hand out to steady her (my side was cement, the other side was grass and clover.) I tried to get her to let herself down onto one of the lawnchairs, but it was a no go. She would have jumped into the raised bed (filled with bermuda grass) but someone (probably me) left a garden claw sticking up out of it.
Finally she managed to maneuver herself down along the other side of the fence, repeating "I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared" as her sister repeated the same refrain...but adding in "We're going to get in trouble!"
The men at the gas station nearby were amused. Or confused. I'm not sure which.
My exasperated "You're allowed to break into your own house!" was met with chuckles.
And then she was down, and manipulated the latch, and we were in.
"I'm a hero!" she proclaimed.
Yup. She's a hero. And I'm proud to say very unlikely to ever embark in a career of criminal activity.
Monday, February 23, 2009
An everything-free party! (except for fun)
Yesterday heralded my soon to be 7 year old's birthday bash. It's a big event. Turning a new year older. Holding up an extra finger when someone wants to know how old you are. Seeing your friends. And hey, cake!
She planned carefully. She designed posters. She drew pictures. She poured over party catalogues. We pondered the fact that although last year we found no Tinkerbell merchandise for her Tinkerbell tea party, there are at least 3 fairy designs this year. But no Webkinz; the topic of choice this year.
Invariably, my girls are a year ahead of the game. From Horses to Unicorns to Olympics to Harry Potter, we have to use ingenuity only to find 6 months later, our demand has finally produced supply. And by then, the girls are off into some other new and exciting trend. Next year, there will be Webkinz everything. And they'll be ho-hum about it.
Anyways...My rule for a low stress party is that we can't poison anyone.
It's a strict rule. And not even Mommy's health can be risked by dangerous normal food. Especially not Mommy's health. The birthday child is important, but who takes care of them? And who makes sure each guest goes home with the right parent? That the walls don't collapse?
That's right. Mom. And she can't do it from bed.
So, the requisite martyr-mom attitude must go out the window. Cake is corn free, gluten free, potato free, etc. Penguin deserves to feel at home in her own home; and why on Earth would I bake for one kid but not the other? Of course, the cake must be dairy free, too. And since nuts are a potentially serious reaction...no nuts allowed. This does create some increased stress for me before hand. The main issue? There's no back up. If my homemade cake does not turn out well; I have to bake another one. There's no last minute race to the grocery store for a powdered sugar icing frosted confection. No fall back plan. Sink or swim, the baking must turn out okay or guests will go hungry. Period.
After our own family; we start to consider guests nutritional needs.
For Miss B that isn't too hard. Her friends don't seem to have any allergies, just finnicky food ideals. That does make being a hostess slightly more challenging. Many a playdate has involved the dramatic sigh of a pint-sized guest accompanied by the breathy remark "Don't you guys just have something normal?" (Pardon me, I thought carrots and apples and grapes WERE normal.)
At any rate...I don't want them to go home from a PARTY grumbling. I have managed to perfect a few recipes that I feel good about serving. The kids are supposed to choose one; but Miss B chose something less than perfect.
Still, my kids devoured it and I served chocolate chip cookies (homemade, delicious, perfected, "almost normal" as described by my brother) to the balkers. They asked to bring some home to their siblings, which can't be a bad thing.
We also served "Kinz Kebobs" which were skewers of California grown strawberries and Hondurian Cantaloupe (I tried to find something else local, I really did. But she turned up her nose, she's 7 and well...I haven't truly started that whole local-vore thing that I'd love to implement, and will totally jump on as soon as a tapioca farm opens next door.)
Those were a big hit. You just can't miss with fruit on a palm tree stick.
The kids entertained themselves in a Webkinz Arcade, which was essentially a balloon labeled "Zingoz Bounce"; Silly Six Pins (A loud-electronic game that gets little use but the kids love) dubbed "Kinz Pinz" and a box labelled "Wishing Well 2" where the kids could earn prizes by pulling out matching plastic fruit. The concept was lost on them, they had a blast anyways and many of them just collected prizes. I feel bad that it wasn't more evenly distributed; but, no one cried, they were all too busy screaming in delight. That's a good thing, I think.
The Arcade madness was followed by a treasure hunt to find Arte. Those with kinz experience know that Arte is the Curio shop manager who sends you treasure hunting. Our hunt culminated in the discovery of...well; rocks. Special rocks. Designed to be broken open and treasure unearthed.
Our treasures? Lollipop rings, mardi gras beads and charm bracelet kits. (Please note that the rocks did harbor danger in the form of glutenous FLOUR. They were broken open outside; under the supervision of the non-Celiac parent. They were also created by the non Celiac in an off residence kitchen.)
Then we sat down and made bracelets. Luckily it all sort of worked out. The kids were not into making sure everything was even and fair...they were mostly into "I found this, I'm keeping this." Thankfully, I bought things by the dozen and there were only 8 kids total, including Penguin who is only a guest by proxy. So it really did seem to work out. I'm the only one who worried that some of the kids got slighted. (Unless they complained in private.)
I was told that the gem hunt was the most fun EVER. Good news. Things wrapped up with the unwrapping of gifts just barely before 3 pm; when the first parent came knocking to collect their offspring. And dh and I collapsed on the sofa with my parents and my brothers family thinking collectively "We survived!"
Miss B is happy. But dealing with that infamous after party "let down" feeling. After all, the next big event seems a LONG WAYS OFF. And her sister's upcoming limelight (Second march birthday) followed by her cousin's first birthday (3rd March Birthday) is not helping things much. Luckily, we got the party over with before her actual day of birth; so we can keep the celebration rolling through the week.
She planned carefully. She designed posters. She drew pictures. She poured over party catalogues. We pondered the fact that although last year we found no Tinkerbell merchandise for her Tinkerbell tea party, there are at least 3 fairy designs this year. But no Webkinz; the topic of choice this year.
Invariably, my girls are a year ahead of the game. From Horses to Unicorns to Olympics to Harry Potter, we have to use ingenuity only to find 6 months later, our demand has finally produced supply. And by then, the girls are off into some other new and exciting trend. Next year, there will be Webkinz everything. And they'll be ho-hum about it.
Anyways...My rule for a low stress party is that we can't poison anyone.
It's a strict rule. And not even Mommy's health can be risked by dangerous normal food. Especially not Mommy's health. The birthday child is important, but who takes care of them? And who makes sure each guest goes home with the right parent? That the walls don't collapse?
That's right. Mom. And she can't do it from bed.
So, the requisite martyr-mom attitude must go out the window. Cake is corn free, gluten free, potato free, etc. Penguin deserves to feel at home in her own home; and why on Earth would I bake for one kid but not the other? Of course, the cake must be dairy free, too. And since nuts are a potentially serious reaction...no nuts allowed. This does create some increased stress for me before hand. The main issue? There's no back up. If my homemade cake does not turn out well; I have to bake another one. There's no last minute race to the grocery store for a powdered sugar icing frosted confection. No fall back plan. Sink or swim, the baking must turn out okay or guests will go hungry. Period.
After our own family; we start to consider guests nutritional needs.
For Miss B that isn't too hard. Her friends don't seem to have any allergies, just finnicky food ideals. That does make being a hostess slightly more challenging. Many a playdate has involved the dramatic sigh of a pint-sized guest accompanied by the breathy remark "Don't you guys just have something normal?" (Pardon me, I thought carrots and apples and grapes WERE normal.)
At any rate...I don't want them to go home from a PARTY grumbling. I have managed to perfect a few recipes that I feel good about serving. The kids are supposed to choose one; but Miss B chose something less than perfect.
Still, my kids devoured it and I served chocolate chip cookies (homemade, delicious, perfected, "almost normal" as described by my brother) to the balkers. They asked to bring some home to their siblings, which can't be a bad thing.We also served "Kinz Kebobs" which were skewers of California grown strawberries and Hondurian Cantaloupe (I tried to find something else local, I really did. But she turned up her nose, she's 7 and well...I haven't truly started that whole local-vore thing that I'd love to implement, and will totally jump on as soon as a tapioca farm opens next door.)
Those were a big hit. You just can't miss with fruit on a palm tree stick.The kids entertained themselves in a Webkinz Arcade, which was essentially a balloon labeled "Zingoz Bounce"; Silly Six Pins (A loud-electronic game that gets little use but the kids love) dubbed "Kinz Pinz" and a box labelled "Wishing Well 2" where the kids could earn prizes by pulling out matching plastic fruit. The concept was lost on them, they had a blast anyways and many of them just collected prizes. I feel bad that it wasn't more evenly distributed; but, no one cried, they were all too busy screaming in delight. That's a good thing, I think.
The Arcade madness was followed by a treasure hunt to find Arte. Those with kinz experience know that Arte is the Curio shop manager who sends you treasure hunting. Our hunt culminated in the discovery of...well; rocks. Special rocks. Designed to be broken open and treasure unearthed.
Our treasures? Lollipop rings, mardi gras beads and charm bracelet kits. (Please note that the rocks did harbor danger in the form of glutenous FLOUR. They were broken open outside; under the supervision of the non-Celiac parent. They were also created by the non Celiac in an off residence kitchen.)Then we sat down and made bracelets. Luckily it all sort of worked out. The kids were not into making sure everything was even and fair...they were mostly into "I found this, I'm keeping this." Thankfully, I bought things by the dozen and there were only 8 kids total, including Penguin who is only a guest by proxy. So it really did seem to work out. I'm the only one who worried that some of the kids got slighted. (Unless they complained in private.)
I was told that the gem hunt was the most fun EVER. Good news. Things wrapped up with the unwrapping of gifts just barely before 3 pm; when the first parent came knocking to collect their offspring. And dh and I collapsed on the sofa with my parents and my brothers family thinking collectively "We survived!"
Miss B is happy. But dealing with that infamous after party "let down" feeling. After all, the next big event seems a LONG WAYS OFF. And her sister's upcoming limelight (Second march birthday) followed by her cousin's first birthday (3rd March Birthday) is not helping things much. Luckily, we got the party over with before her actual day of birth; so we can keep the celebration rolling through the week.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Turkeys
I'm reading a book called "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver. It's an interesting read about one family's endeavor to eat local for one year. They do have a firm foundation in healthy eating habits, and an intimate knowledge of gardening well before their local-vore adventure begins, which is slightly disappointing, but nevertheless; the information within holds my attention.
One fact that has jumped out at me is their Turkey choice. They've chosen to raise their own poultry for this adventure, something I'm not sure I could do (How do you not name an animal you interact with daily?) but, then again, I have trouble eating something I knew used to have a pulse, brain waves, and communication skills. The troubling aspect was the cited fact that around 98% of the turkeys sold annually (from the deli and freezer cases) have been bred for some rather unique qualities.
They are docile. They won't put up a fight at cramped conditions, and don't mind being half crushed for half of their lives.
Their lifespan is limited. If permitted to reach full growth, and wander around, the sheer "normal" weight of their bodies will crush their legs and ultimately, their chest. This, I imagine, provides a rather slow and painful death.
Most disturbing of all; they are incapable of procreating naturally. In fact, there are technicians who are skilled in surgically removing the male's sperm and inseminating the female.
Folks...Americans eat these monstrosities. In fact, we consider them prized fixings. Meanwhile, the days of the wild turkey (the bird that found itself on the table during our first Thanksgiving feast) is in danger of extinction. Varieties of poultry and livestock are not only losing popularity, they are disappearing almost as quickly as the rainforest lands can be cleared to make room for more livestock grazing land.
How is it healthy to eat the flesh of a critter that would not have survived another month if mankind hadn't put it out of it's misery? At least, when that misery is inflicted by mankind's lack of appropriate nourishment and attention?
We play G-d with animals, with plants, with our food supply. We pretend we can outwit mother nature in an operating room, with modern medical miracles. But we don't see the bigger picture. Someday we're going to wake up and realize that we ourselves are dying, and it will be at our own hand.
My kids are growing up in a world that I've helped create. It scares me half to death to think of the problems that I'm leaving behind for them and their children to clean up after. The more I learn, the more disturbed I become. It's not just pollution, global warming, and generations of poor nutrition and the loss of integral health knowledge (our food shouldn't be bright blue) that they need to bounce back from. They're also going to be contending with rampant wild strains of genetically modified and mutated crops, franken-turkeys who can't procreate, massive extinctions and mutations. They'll be cleaning waterways and seeking safe, fertile farmland.
I can see it unfolding like the Ghost of Christmas Future. And we have to do something. More than I am already.
One fact that has jumped out at me is their Turkey choice. They've chosen to raise their own poultry for this adventure, something I'm not sure I could do (How do you not name an animal you interact with daily?) but, then again, I have trouble eating something I knew used to have a pulse, brain waves, and communication skills. The troubling aspect was the cited fact that around 98% of the turkeys sold annually (from the deli and freezer cases) have been bred for some rather unique qualities.
They are docile. They won't put up a fight at cramped conditions, and don't mind being half crushed for half of their lives.
Their lifespan is limited. If permitted to reach full growth, and wander around, the sheer "normal" weight of their bodies will crush their legs and ultimately, their chest. This, I imagine, provides a rather slow and painful death.
Most disturbing of all; they are incapable of procreating naturally. In fact, there are technicians who are skilled in surgically removing the male's sperm and inseminating the female.
Folks...Americans eat these monstrosities. In fact, we consider them prized fixings. Meanwhile, the days of the wild turkey (the bird that found itself on the table during our first Thanksgiving feast) is in danger of extinction. Varieties of poultry and livestock are not only losing popularity, they are disappearing almost as quickly as the rainforest lands can be cleared to make room for more livestock grazing land.
How is it healthy to eat the flesh of a critter that would not have survived another month if mankind hadn't put it out of it's misery? At least, when that misery is inflicted by mankind's lack of appropriate nourishment and attention?
We play G-d with animals, with plants, with our food supply. We pretend we can outwit mother nature in an operating room, with modern medical miracles. But we don't see the bigger picture. Someday we're going to wake up and realize that we ourselves are dying, and it will be at our own hand.
My kids are growing up in a world that I've helped create. It scares me half to death to think of the problems that I'm leaving behind for them and their children to clean up after. The more I learn, the more disturbed I become. It's not just pollution, global warming, and generations of poor nutrition and the loss of integral health knowledge (our food shouldn't be bright blue) that they need to bounce back from. They're also going to be contending with rampant wild strains of genetically modified and mutated crops, franken-turkeys who can't procreate, massive extinctions and mutations. They'll be cleaning waterways and seeking safe, fertile farmland.
I can see it unfolding like the Ghost of Christmas Future. And we have to do something. More than I am already.
Friday, February 13, 2009
V-Day...beyond food.
It's here. Friday the thirteenth...of February. This is the cause of much celebration in the homes of young girls (and boys, I'm sure). Today is the day of the school VaLeNtInEs DaY party! Yay!!!
Of course, this means cookies, and cupcakes, and (thanks to the new "healthy food in the classrooms" initiative) a fruit plate and veggie tray. Not to mention lovely party bags full of sweet, sugary, dye-bright, casein full candy. (Made from pure corn, of course!) They do look lovely. And the kids, of course, want to share something fun as well.
We've done light sticks with Harry Potter cards, and lovely little tattoo furry cards, and one year we made foam-y lips or mustaches that attached to safe lollipops. (Those turned out cute, but very mom-work intensive)
This year, I think we hit a true winner though...these adorable little caterpillars with tags attached that read "I'm Buggy about you, Valentine" and "You're all WRITE" (Both socially acceptable for a 5th grade girl to hand about freely.)
My youngest also made little tags for cute little heart mazes (yes, I know...landfill fodder *sigh*) that read "You a-MAZE me" she's very proud...and the best part is, they were cheap, encouraged the kids creativity and fine motor skill development, are completely allergy friendly...and they certainly are unlikely to be duplicated, today, anyways.
The only cloud in our sky is that the youngest (the one who can eat the dairy decadent gluten gorged feast planned for the afternoon) will be missing her party due to a fever. That's okay...I get to snuggle a sick baby (who isn't often a "baby") and the Valentines will keep; she doesn't need the sweets and we'll have our own party this weekend.
Besides, her birthday's coming...
Of course, this means cookies, and cupcakes, and (thanks to the new "healthy food in the classrooms" initiative) a fruit plate and veggie tray. Not to mention lovely party bags full of sweet, sugary, dye-bright, casein full candy. (Made from pure corn, of course!) They do look lovely. And the kids, of course, want to share something fun as well.
We've done light sticks with Harry Potter cards, and lovely little tattoo furry cards, and one year we made foam-y lips or mustaches that attached to safe lollipops. (Those turned out cute, but very mom-work intensive)
This year, I think we hit a true winner though...these adorable little caterpillars with tags attached that read "I'm Buggy about you, Valentine" and "You're all WRITE" (Both socially acceptable for a 5th grade girl to hand about freely.)
My youngest also made little tags for cute little heart mazes (yes, I know...landfill fodder *sigh*) that read "You a-MAZE me" she's very proud...and the best part is, they were cheap, encouraged the kids creativity and fine motor skill development, are completely allergy friendly...and they certainly are unlikely to be duplicated, today, anyways.
The only cloud in our sky is that the youngest (the one who can eat the dairy decadent gluten gorged feast planned for the afternoon) will be missing her party due to a fever. That's okay...I get to snuggle a sick baby (who isn't often a "baby") and the Valentines will keep; she doesn't need the sweets and we'll have our own party this weekend.
Besides, her birthday's coming...
Monday, February 09, 2009
The things we take for granted...
When you wake up with a fever, sore throat and chills; you really gain a new perspective on Tylenol.
I mean, when the kids have a headache, or stub a toe, or grow new molars, I have that magic bottle in the cupboard. It's always handy, and when I run out; more is only a quick hop in the car to any local drug store or grocer. But, the same isn't true for me.
A few years ago, I had an amusing time trying to track down safe acetaminophen (Tylenol). The problem was that I wanted something for a headache and menstrual cramps. Over the counter Tylenol and Tylenol knock-offs would do the job just fine. Except that every blessed one of them contains corn derivatives.
In other words; I can choose between the pain that has a (probably) limited duration, or abdominal cramps, bloating, nausea etc that goes on for a guaranteed 2 weeks to a month. Or; I can find a pharmacist to compound it. Compounding, as I soon found out, is becoming a lost art...lost to the red tape of legislature.
Thankfully...A few years ago, I did find a pharmacist willing to help me. And today, when I woke up with aches and pains; I thanked my lucky stars and reached for my trusty compounded acetaminophen.
I've come to take for granted that mild aches and pains can be virtually extinguished by a little capsule filled with a very common substance. And that there doesn't need to be a trade off. Or even a waiting period. I guess I've become spoiled.
Unfortunately, this morning I quickly realized that my medication had expired. Quite awhile ago, actually.
So now I'm patiently waiting for my doctor and the pharmacy to work out the logistics of compounding more acetaminophen. And next time...I'll be grateful that it's in the cupboard. Well worth a dollar a dose.
And next time, I'll keep an eye on that expiration date.
I mean, when the kids have a headache, or stub a toe, or grow new molars, I have that magic bottle in the cupboard. It's always handy, and when I run out; more is only a quick hop in the car to any local drug store or grocer. But, the same isn't true for me.
A few years ago, I had an amusing time trying to track down safe acetaminophen (Tylenol). The problem was that I wanted something for a headache and menstrual cramps. Over the counter Tylenol and Tylenol knock-offs would do the job just fine. Except that every blessed one of them contains corn derivatives.
In other words; I can choose between the pain that has a (probably) limited duration, or abdominal cramps, bloating, nausea etc that goes on for a guaranteed 2 weeks to a month. Or; I can find a pharmacist to compound it. Compounding, as I soon found out, is becoming a lost art...lost to the red tape of legislature.
Thankfully...A few years ago, I did find a pharmacist willing to help me. And today, when I woke up with aches and pains; I thanked my lucky stars and reached for my trusty compounded acetaminophen.
I've come to take for granted that mild aches and pains can be virtually extinguished by a little capsule filled with a very common substance. And that there doesn't need to be a trade off. Or even a waiting period. I guess I've become spoiled.
Unfortunately, this morning I quickly realized that my medication had expired. Quite awhile ago, actually.
So now I'm patiently waiting for my doctor and the pharmacy to work out the logistics of compounding more acetaminophen. And next time...I'll be grateful that it's in the cupboard. Well worth a dollar a dose.
And next time, I'll keep an eye on that expiration date.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
The Gluten Conundrum
I find myself writing this out over and over and over. So here goes, in my blog, where I can later cut and paste or just link it. :-)
The evil of gluten:
With most food allergies, as I've learned, the gial is to track them down. The best tool for this is a food diary (to help note trends) and an elimination diet followed by food challenges. (The challenges are vital because you do not want to live in unnecessary fear, nor do you want a diet that is too restrictive.)
However (!!!) Gluten does not follow the same food allergy rule. If you suspect gluten is the root of your health issues (and increasing evidence links it with arthritis, weight gain, autism, asthma, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, and any other dx that leaves a dr proudly smiling and reassuring you that while there is no treatment, you aren't dying.) then you have more to do than 'simply' cut it out of your diet, note symptoms, and challenge it.
You see, gluten intolerance could be Celiac Disease. And Celiac Disease, while easy to manage, is important to diagnose properly. People with Celiac experience intestinal damage when they ingest even small amounts of gluten. And; they may experience damage without correlating symptoms. In other words...when you "challenge" gluten, you might find that you can "tolerate" small amounts. But those small amounts that don't cause symptoms can flatten your intestinal villi, and leave you malnourished; setting you up for a host of serious conditions down the road.
So, before going gluten free it's a really good idea to go to the doctor, discuss the idea with him and insist on a blood test first. Request a FULL celiac panel, not just the TTG. This will guide your decision on whether to follow up with a GI, or get a biopsy, or just give gluten free a go. This is particularly important with children...they are less likely to continue the diet in their teen and adult years without a proper diagnosis. But, if they aren't thriving and gluten is impacting growth, it's better for them to be healthy and gluten free than wait around for enough damage to occur for a diagnosis to be made. Only you, in conjunction with a good doctor, can know what's best for your particular situation.
It doesn't hurt to go gluten free. It can be a healthy, well balanced diet. Many cultures have a traditionally low gluten or gluten free diet. But once you do give up gluten, the intestines will start to heal. When the antibodies are no longer active, it will be impossible for a doctor to definitively dx Celiac Disease. While you don't need a doctor's permission to eat gluten free; you may need that note for college, or kid's camp, or employment reasons, or if you're ever hospitalized or need long term care and they aren't keen on a special needs diet. And adding gluten back in can create symptoms before damage is severe enough to detect. Or, it can cause damage without symptoms...leading you to believe you're cured until you collapse.
If you go gluten free, and then challenge it without symptoms, it is important to regularly monitor your antibodies with blood tests. If you do develop Celiac damage; you want to catch it as early as possible.
Also...if wheat, rye, barley or oats seem to cause rashes or shortness of breath, contact your dr. This could be a traditional IgE mediated allergy; and challenging it on your own at home could be dangerous. IgE allergies can be tested with a blood RAST or skin prick test; and an educated guess made as to the potential severity of reaction.
The evil of gluten:
With most food allergies, as I've learned, the gial is to track them down. The best tool for this is a food diary (to help note trends) and an elimination diet followed by food challenges. (The challenges are vital because you do not want to live in unnecessary fear, nor do you want a diet that is too restrictive.)
However (!!!) Gluten does not follow the same food allergy rule. If you suspect gluten is the root of your health issues (and increasing evidence links it with arthritis, weight gain, autism, asthma, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, and any other dx that leaves a dr proudly smiling and reassuring you that while there is no treatment, you aren't dying.) then you have more to do than 'simply' cut it out of your diet, note symptoms, and challenge it.
You see, gluten intolerance could be Celiac Disease. And Celiac Disease, while easy to manage, is important to diagnose properly. People with Celiac experience intestinal damage when they ingest even small amounts of gluten. And; they may experience damage without correlating symptoms. In other words...when you "challenge" gluten, you might find that you can "tolerate" small amounts. But those small amounts that don't cause symptoms can flatten your intestinal villi, and leave you malnourished; setting you up for a host of serious conditions down the road.
So, before going gluten free it's a really good idea to go to the doctor, discuss the idea with him and insist on a blood test first. Request a FULL celiac panel, not just the TTG. This will guide your decision on whether to follow up with a GI, or get a biopsy, or just give gluten free a go. This is particularly important with children...they are less likely to continue the diet in their teen and adult years without a proper diagnosis. But, if they aren't thriving and gluten is impacting growth, it's better for them to be healthy and gluten free than wait around for enough damage to occur for a diagnosis to be made. Only you, in conjunction with a good doctor, can know what's best for your particular situation.
It doesn't hurt to go gluten free. It can be a healthy, well balanced diet. Many cultures have a traditionally low gluten or gluten free diet. But once you do give up gluten, the intestines will start to heal. When the antibodies are no longer active, it will be impossible for a doctor to definitively dx Celiac Disease. While you don't need a doctor's permission to eat gluten free; you may need that note for college, or kid's camp, or employment reasons, or if you're ever hospitalized or need long term care and they aren't keen on a special needs diet. And adding gluten back in can create symptoms before damage is severe enough to detect. Or, it can cause damage without symptoms...leading you to believe you're cured until you collapse.
If you go gluten free, and then challenge it without symptoms, it is important to regularly monitor your antibodies with blood tests. If you do develop Celiac damage; you want to catch it as early as possible.
Also...if wheat, rye, barley or oats seem to cause rashes or shortness of breath, contact your dr. This could be a traditional IgE mediated allergy; and challenging it on your own at home could be dangerous. IgE allergies can be tested with a blood RAST or skin prick test; and an educated guess made as to the potential severity of reaction.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Food Allergies: Prison? Or Pardon?
This entry, like so many lately, has been inspired by recent goings on in a variety of online communities I take part in.
The subject that inspired me was the frustrated comment that food allergies feel like a prison. I can understand where they're coming from. Indeed, it's frustrating when 'everyone' is going out to eat and you have to find something to bring along, or eat in advance, or just beg off. It's hard to avoid participating in the most fundamental of ice breakers..."Did you try that dip? OMG, it's to die for!" It's lonely to not identify with the curbside "what's new at Starbucks" conversation.
But I don't view food allergies as a prison.
For years, I was in pain. I did my best to ignore it, to push myself out, I put on a smile and bounced about, and laughed like there was no tomorrow. But I had that internal monologue going. "5 more minutes. Just 5 more minutes." I had a route mapped to the bathroom, I was imagining soothing white light coating my abdomen, I begged off citing "headaches" and "menstrual cramps". No one seemed to notice that I always had pms...and if it did come up I joked that I was stuck with "pre, post, present" syndrome. We laughed. Life goes on.
But every moment was just one step in front of another.
My daughter has fond memories of the days before I had "food allergies". When I'd tell her to grab a big pile of books, and we'd snuggle up in bed with the heating pad and read for hours. She remembers building a fort, and me telling her to bring the juice and a cup so I didn't have to leave. She doesn't know that I didn't have the strength to walk to the kitchen. And the memory chills me.
Although I am still dealing with many of the affects of food allergies, I'm also healing. I'm awed by the trips we take, to the zoo, to the library, to the park. Trips that I enjoy. I used to think I enjoyed them, but I hurt. I wasn't really "there". I was in my internal monologue of "5 more minutes, this doesn't hurt that bad." or "Breathe, just keep breathing, slowly, that's right." I love lamaze. I barely used it in labor, but I got a lot of use out of it for other reasons.
Sure, my heart still pauses when I have a meeting I can't miss. I still make sure I can have a quick getaway even though I haven't needed one in awhile. (Okay, okay, okay, I had a few close calls over Christmas. It was a nasty reminder of what life used to be like; and if it weren't for December, I probably would be feeling even less skittish at the moment.) As a good friend once told me "The best way to get over a fear is to jump right in. But, when you jump in and a freak wave knocks you over and tangles you up in seaweed, it just confirms that your fear was well founded. And obviously, it makes it much harder to 'just jump in' again." I'm just recovering from the seaweed memories. It doesn't mean that food allergies create a prison.
As far as I'm concerned, the allergies have set me free. That freedom is a bit scary at times. And of course...I still have physical symptoms that hold me back, and frustrate me. Restaurants are not a relaxing opportunity. Parties are scary. But only because of my memories and fear of embarrassing myself. I can't shake the memory of walking into a career counselors office, forcing a smile and vomiting into his trash can; running in shame. (Maybe I should get that health under control before job hunting?) Or the restaurants. *shivering*.
Now that was isolating. Violent stomach flu striking any moment of any day, several times a month with little warning other than the almost omni-present discomfort; now THAT was a prison. Doctors shaking their heads and telling me to buck up, shrugging, suggesting I relax...just jailors, throwing away another key. Medications that at best, left me sleepy and unsafe to drive? Just empty hope.
Discovering food allergies? It's like being set free after years of prison. Sure, I'm not living the life that TV tells me everyone wants. I may not be an executive anything, or the PTA mom, or a June Cleaver-wannnabe. I'm not a social butterfly, and I've never eaten at the half dozen restaurants I use as landmarks when giving directions. But I have some control over my health. I have hope. Hope! That thing with feathers, that perches on the soul...(Emily Dickinson)
I can bond at the park. I can bond with other parents over the trials of bedtime or their toddlers new cute boots. Everyone can relate to grocery budgeting, whether you buy ingredients or pre-packaged goods. And there's not one of us who doesn't have a pile of laundry calling.
Food allergies may have imprisoned me once, but now that they're labeled and acknowledged, they've set me free. I'm no more imprisoned than an Orhodox Jew, or Seventh Day Adventist. The only prison is in my own memories.
The subject that inspired me was the frustrated comment that food allergies feel like a prison. I can understand where they're coming from. Indeed, it's frustrating when 'everyone' is going out to eat and you have to find something to bring along, or eat in advance, or just beg off. It's hard to avoid participating in the most fundamental of ice breakers..."Did you try that dip? OMG, it's to die for!" It's lonely to not identify with the curbside "what's new at Starbucks" conversation.
But I don't view food allergies as a prison.
For years, I was in pain. I did my best to ignore it, to push myself out, I put on a smile and bounced about, and laughed like there was no tomorrow. But I had that internal monologue going. "5 more minutes. Just 5 more minutes." I had a route mapped to the bathroom, I was imagining soothing white light coating my abdomen, I begged off citing "headaches" and "menstrual cramps". No one seemed to notice that I always had pms...and if it did come up I joked that I was stuck with "pre, post, present" syndrome. We laughed. Life goes on.
But every moment was just one step in front of another.
My daughter has fond memories of the days before I had "food allergies". When I'd tell her to grab a big pile of books, and we'd snuggle up in bed with the heating pad and read for hours. She remembers building a fort, and me telling her to bring the juice and a cup so I didn't have to leave. She doesn't know that I didn't have the strength to walk to the kitchen. And the memory chills me.
Although I am still dealing with many of the affects of food allergies, I'm also healing. I'm awed by the trips we take, to the zoo, to the library, to the park. Trips that I enjoy. I used to think I enjoyed them, but I hurt. I wasn't really "there". I was in my internal monologue of "5 more minutes, this doesn't hurt that bad." or "Breathe, just keep breathing, slowly, that's right." I love lamaze. I barely used it in labor, but I got a lot of use out of it for other reasons.
Sure, my heart still pauses when I have a meeting I can't miss. I still make sure I can have a quick getaway even though I haven't needed one in awhile. (Okay, okay, okay, I had a few close calls over Christmas. It was a nasty reminder of what life used to be like; and if it weren't for December, I probably would be feeling even less skittish at the moment.) As a good friend once told me "The best way to get over a fear is to jump right in. But, when you jump in and a freak wave knocks you over and tangles you up in seaweed, it just confirms that your fear was well founded. And obviously, it makes it much harder to 'just jump in' again." I'm just recovering from the seaweed memories. It doesn't mean that food allergies create a prison.
As far as I'm concerned, the allergies have set me free. That freedom is a bit scary at times. And of course...I still have physical symptoms that hold me back, and frustrate me. Restaurants are not a relaxing opportunity. Parties are scary. But only because of my memories and fear of embarrassing myself. I can't shake the memory of walking into a career counselors office, forcing a smile and vomiting into his trash can; running in shame. (Maybe I should get that health under control before job hunting?) Or the restaurants. *shivering*.
Now that was isolating. Violent stomach flu striking any moment of any day, several times a month with little warning other than the almost omni-present discomfort; now THAT was a prison. Doctors shaking their heads and telling me to buck up, shrugging, suggesting I relax...just jailors, throwing away another key. Medications that at best, left me sleepy and unsafe to drive? Just empty hope.
Discovering food allergies? It's like being set free after years of prison. Sure, I'm not living the life that TV tells me everyone wants. I may not be an executive anything, or the PTA mom, or a June Cleaver-wannnabe. I'm not a social butterfly, and I've never eaten at the half dozen restaurants I use as landmarks when giving directions. But I have some control over my health. I have hope. Hope! That thing with feathers, that perches on the soul...(Emily Dickinson)
I can bond at the park. I can bond with other parents over the trials of bedtime or their toddlers new cute boots. Everyone can relate to grocery budgeting, whether you buy ingredients or pre-packaged goods. And there's not one of us who doesn't have a pile of laundry calling.
Food allergies may have imprisoned me once, but now that they're labeled and acknowledged, they've set me free. I'm no more imprisoned than an Orhodox Jew, or Seventh Day Adventist. The only prison is in my own memories.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
There's Mercury in that Corn...
Well, as a corn allergic individual, I've learned that the vast majority of the time, "There's Corn in that. And there's Corn in that, too." However...I did not know that High Fructose Corn Syrup was contaminated with the heavy metal Mercury. In fact, it contains a LOT of mercury.
The Corn Refiners Association argues that they have cleaned up their act. Not only is there now no mercury in corn syrup, they now are using mercury free processing agents.
Amusing. If there never was mercury in corn syrup, why are they "now" using the mercury free versions of caustic soda and hydrochloric acid? And why has it never come out before that this "all natural sweetener" used to have mercury?
With all of the hype about corn syrup causing obesity, one would think that if there had been evidence before, even suspect, that it would have found it's way into American's ears. Unless, of course, there was a cover up. (Is this when Mel Gibson shows up at my door with "Conspiracy Theory" theme music?)
Perhaps the study was flawed? Then why was it confirmed by a second study conducted by the Institute for Agricultural and Trade Policy? This one showed that around 31% of the food and beverage products that contain high fructose corn syrup which were tested (purchased straight from supermarket shelves) contained mercury. The study was limited, meant only to challenge the findings of the first study after a notable lack of response from the FDA and other consumer advocacy groups. And it proved that the first study...had some merit, after all.
But corn is good. The Corn Refiners Association is huge industry. Corn is in everything, and they are looking for ways to stick it in products that lack this miracle food. It has fiber. And it grows well in North America. Most importantly, it's government subsidized. And it has so many other potential uses, such as ethanol.
Some days, I think that's about all corn is fit for...burning. At least it will kill us slowly, and it burns cleaner than coal.
The Corn Refiners Association argues that they have cleaned up their act. Not only is there now no mercury in corn syrup, they now are using mercury free processing agents.
Amusing. If there never was mercury in corn syrup, why are they "now" using the mercury free versions of caustic soda and hydrochloric acid? And why has it never come out before that this "all natural sweetener" used to have mercury?
With all of the hype about corn syrup causing obesity, one would think that if there had been evidence before, even suspect, that it would have found it's way into American's ears. Unless, of course, there was a cover up. (Is this when Mel Gibson shows up at my door with "Conspiracy Theory" theme music?)
Perhaps the study was flawed? Then why was it confirmed by a second study conducted by the Institute for Agricultural and Trade Policy? This one showed that around 31% of the food and beverage products that contain high fructose corn syrup which were tested (purchased straight from supermarket shelves) contained mercury. The study was limited, meant only to challenge the findings of the first study after a notable lack of response from the FDA and other consumer advocacy groups. And it proved that the first study...had some merit, after all.
But corn is good. The Corn Refiners Association is huge industry. Corn is in everything, and they are looking for ways to stick it in products that lack this miracle food. It has fiber. And it grows well in North America. Most importantly, it's government subsidized. And it has so many other potential uses, such as ethanol.
Some days, I think that's about all corn is fit for...burning. At least it will kill us slowly, and it burns cleaner than coal.
The Shrinking World
Our world is shrinking.
Not our planet, although if the arctic ice continues melting, the amount of available land will certainly continue to shrink. I mean our world, our environment...what we perceive as "the world".
We used to live in our own cities, and the boundaries were defined. We bought produce from the market, our staple pantry items from the corner store. The corner store was supplied from a local farmer. Who grew their own crops.
There were bigger companies, too. But their supplies, again, were limited by distance.
We used to travel through books, and talking on phones seemed miraculous. Our president was a mythical figure, and our state representative might be a vague idea as well. We lived in the here; and if we didn't like what was going on in our local community...we could do something about it, or we could find a better place to live.
That doesn't work anymore. We live globally. Our kitchen is stocked from all over the planet (Thailand, Indonesia, Brazil, Italy); our cupboards are filled with merchandise made in China from parts and pieces gathered from a selection of countries. Our corner store is located on our desktop, if not our palmpilot. GPS makes us feel right at ease in any "new" location...without even meeting the eyes of a local gas station attendandant.
The internet informs us not only of our local news but whats going on in Pakistan. The smaller the world gets, the more out of control we feel; and so the government makes new laws, new legislature meant to protect us from our own inadequacies.
Don't homeschool. Even if the public school is failing your child, the government challenges you to jump through hoops to keep your child home. Someone has to fail, even if it is your child.
Mass-vaccinate. Sure, hundreds die each year. But that's so thousands can live. They don't dare give freedom of choice to trained individual doctors who know a patient's history. No, much better to make that decision without looking a child in the face. Otherwise, they might hesitate; knowing the risks.
Forget compounding drugs. Someone, somewhere can take advantage of that. Besides, it's too risky. The compounding pharmacist might make a mistake. And that would be dangerous, at least as dangerous as anaphylaxis from the excipient used to bind the drug commercially. Much better to leave the statistically insignificant helpless. From a boardroom, they can't see them suffering anyways.
Crush the small farmer. They can't afford fancy machinery, they can't afford to lose a room full of carcasses and they can't dedicate an entire field's yield to testing. They can't provide a separate bathroom with proper sewage to the handfull of customers they have. They can't hire help unless they can afford to build a new housing unit. They can't charge for tours. Nevermind that they have such a limited distribution and work slowly enough for their production to be a safer choice than whats turned out at a frightening speed by bug businesses; nevermind that they have a personal rapport with customers and an intense personal drive to keep their customers happy. Forget the fact that customers are thinking individuals who can look around and make choices for themselves whether or not to risk eating the meat, or grain, or homemade apple pie that's for sale. They can't compete with billion dollar agricultural giants, so they can drown.
And now toys. Toys, and clothes, and hair accessories. All the little unique items found in church bazaars and craft fairs and online from individual entrepreneurs are being threatened. Mothers who work from home to produce slings, and cloth diapers, and handcrafted baby and child items are threatened. The retiree who spends his days creating heirloom quality children's toys in his backyard shop for a bit of supplemental income is threatened.
Why? Why, because those big companies...the ones who produce massive quantities of colorful, plastic future-landfill fodder...cut a few too many corners. They got so big, and the world so small, that they harmed a few too many kids. Too much lead showed up in items meant to be mouthed. And the government took action, looking only at the big companies, the CPSC created a Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act. And this act threatens the livelihood of thousands, just when the economy is at its weakest.
The worst thing is, it's disguised as a good thing.
In order to stay in business, all a company needs to do is send a portion of each batch of toys or clothing off for independant testing. They simply need to pass a lead screening, and prove that they meet the governments standards. It would be tragic if that hardwood race car carved by Joe happened to have lead in it. Or if that christening gown, with hand tatted lace, was laced with poisons. Who would guess? Certainly not the people who produced them in the first place, the ones whose livelihood depends on every customer's satisfaction.
It sounds reasonable until you do the math. In order to stay in business, small business owners would need to raise their prices astronomically. A $10 barrette set would go for close to $5000. After conservative testing had been paid for, anyways.
Whether I want to or not, I'm stuck buying the cheap ones from China. From a company that can afford to take risks with my child's safety, because the odds of that small batch of lead painted barrettes getting found are minute. The government will have much better luck tracking down small businesses who make a slight error, don't you think? And the small business owner won't have the resources to recover.
With price tags like that, entrepreneurs won't be able to get started. Famous Amos ate a Nestle Tollhouse cookie and said "Hey, someone should sell these." So he tried. And when it worked, he earned enough to grow and slowly start doing it "right".
If he'd been required to buy the production equipment, get a license, and have a third of his first batch tossed for testing purposes we'd never have found pre-packaged chocolate chip cookies on the store shelves.
What futures will be harmed because a visionaries hands were tied with red tape?
And when will it end? Where do we draw the line? When do we, as a society, see that parents can make the decision to parent? There is no "right" answer for everyone. It's okay to make mistakes, that's how we learn. The trouble is, individuals need the freedom to make mistakes, while corporations need the constrains of laws to keep them from forgetting their responsibility to each individual.
Our world needs to shrink again, in the opposite direction. We need to start shopping at our local stores, where our taxes stay in our own community, and we support people who live here, too. We need to be governed by our local officials, who can see our unique needs better in person. We need to be trusted to make decisions, and given full disclosure so that we can make an informed decision. And we need to learn not to simply pass the buck to the next guy. When we make mistakes, we need to own up to them. Just as we hold others responsible for their own errors.
Not our planet, although if the arctic ice continues melting, the amount of available land will certainly continue to shrink. I mean our world, our environment...what we perceive as "the world".
We used to live in our own cities, and the boundaries were defined. We bought produce from the market, our staple pantry items from the corner store. The corner store was supplied from a local farmer. Who grew their own crops.
There were bigger companies, too. But their supplies, again, were limited by distance.
We used to travel through books, and talking on phones seemed miraculous. Our president was a mythical figure, and our state representative might be a vague idea as well. We lived in the here; and if we didn't like what was going on in our local community...we could do something about it, or we could find a better place to live.
That doesn't work anymore. We live globally. Our kitchen is stocked from all over the planet (Thailand, Indonesia, Brazil, Italy); our cupboards are filled with merchandise made in China from parts and pieces gathered from a selection of countries. Our corner store is located on our desktop, if not our palmpilot. GPS makes us feel right at ease in any "new" location...without even meeting the eyes of a local gas station attendandant.
The internet informs us not only of our local news but whats going on in Pakistan. The smaller the world gets, the more out of control we feel; and so the government makes new laws, new legislature meant to protect us from our own inadequacies.
Don't homeschool. Even if the public school is failing your child, the government challenges you to jump through hoops to keep your child home. Someone has to fail, even if it is your child.
Mass-vaccinate. Sure, hundreds die each year. But that's so thousands can live. They don't dare give freedom of choice to trained individual doctors who know a patient's history. No, much better to make that decision without looking a child in the face. Otherwise, they might hesitate; knowing the risks.
Forget compounding drugs. Someone, somewhere can take advantage of that. Besides, it's too risky. The compounding pharmacist might make a mistake. And that would be dangerous, at least as dangerous as anaphylaxis from the excipient used to bind the drug commercially. Much better to leave the statistically insignificant helpless. From a boardroom, they can't see them suffering anyways.
Crush the small farmer. They can't afford fancy machinery, they can't afford to lose a room full of carcasses and they can't dedicate an entire field's yield to testing. They can't provide a separate bathroom with proper sewage to the handfull of customers they have. They can't hire help unless they can afford to build a new housing unit. They can't charge for tours. Nevermind that they have such a limited distribution and work slowly enough for their production to be a safer choice than whats turned out at a frightening speed by bug businesses; nevermind that they have a personal rapport with customers and an intense personal drive to keep their customers happy. Forget the fact that customers are thinking individuals who can look around and make choices for themselves whether or not to risk eating the meat, or grain, or homemade apple pie that's for sale. They can't compete with billion dollar agricultural giants, so they can drown.
And now toys. Toys, and clothes, and hair accessories. All the little unique items found in church bazaars and craft fairs and online from individual entrepreneurs are being threatened. Mothers who work from home to produce slings, and cloth diapers, and handcrafted baby and child items are threatened. The retiree who spends his days creating heirloom quality children's toys in his backyard shop for a bit of supplemental income is threatened.
Why? Why, because those big companies...the ones who produce massive quantities of colorful, plastic future-landfill fodder...cut a few too many corners. They got so big, and the world so small, that they harmed a few too many kids. Too much lead showed up in items meant to be mouthed. And the government took action, looking only at the big companies, the CPSC created a Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act. And this act threatens the livelihood of thousands, just when the economy is at its weakest.
The worst thing is, it's disguised as a good thing.
In order to stay in business, all a company needs to do is send a portion of each batch of toys or clothing off for independant testing. They simply need to pass a lead screening, and prove that they meet the governments standards. It would be tragic if that hardwood race car carved by Joe happened to have lead in it. Or if that christening gown, with hand tatted lace, was laced with poisons. Who would guess? Certainly not the people who produced them in the first place, the ones whose livelihood depends on every customer's satisfaction.
It sounds reasonable until you do the math. In order to stay in business, small business owners would need to raise their prices astronomically. A $10 barrette set would go for close to $5000. After conservative testing had been paid for, anyways.
Whether I want to or not, I'm stuck buying the cheap ones from China. From a company that can afford to take risks with my child's safety, because the odds of that small batch of lead painted barrettes getting found are minute. The government will have much better luck tracking down small businesses who make a slight error, don't you think? And the small business owner won't have the resources to recover.
With price tags like that, entrepreneurs won't be able to get started. Famous Amos ate a Nestle Tollhouse cookie and said "Hey, someone should sell these." So he tried. And when it worked, he earned enough to grow and slowly start doing it "right".
If he'd been required to buy the production equipment, get a license, and have a third of his first batch tossed for testing purposes we'd never have found pre-packaged chocolate chip cookies on the store shelves.
What futures will be harmed because a visionaries hands were tied with red tape?
And when will it end? Where do we draw the line? When do we, as a society, see that parents can make the decision to parent? There is no "right" answer for everyone. It's okay to make mistakes, that's how we learn. The trouble is, individuals need the freedom to make mistakes, while corporations need the constrains of laws to keep them from forgetting their responsibility to each individual.
Our world needs to shrink again, in the opposite direction. We need to start shopping at our local stores, where our taxes stay in our own community, and we support people who live here, too. We need to be governed by our local officials, who can see our unique needs better in person. We need to be trusted to make decisions, and given full disclosure so that we can make an informed decision. And we need to learn not to simply pass the buck to the next guy. When we make mistakes, we need to own up to them. Just as we hold others responsible for their own errors.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The Tie That's Stressed
When we take our vows, most of us think of them romantically. For better or worse (Insert image of him snoring, or an image of her frantic scrubbing when the in-laws are due.) For richer or poorer (Image of Caroline Ingalls leaving the cushy town life to follow Charles into the Big Woods, the Prairie and so on.) In sickness and in health. (An image of an elderly couple entering a retirement home together).
But very few of us are lucky enough to stay healthy until we're a ripe old age. And for some of us, that "sickness and in health" bit doesn't just refer to the common cold. Nor does it mean anything out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.
When diagnosed with food mediated illness, most people are given a few dietary pointers, a reassuring smile and a few lists to bring with them to the grocery store. They can buy as many cookbooks as they want and there are many support groups out there to help them learn to navigate society with a food restriction. But there aren't many guidebooks that address how devastating a food restriction can be to your relationship.
Your marriage partner signs up to love you despite your faults (and sometimes because of them.) He (or she) is supposed to be the rock that you lean on when you just aren't strong enough to go it alone, and in return, you are supposed to be healthy and strong when they need you most. This give and take is tantamount to any relationship.
So, what happens when one partner suddenly can't hold up their end of the bargain, for an extended period of time? Both partners are frustrated. The dishes don't get washed, the laundry isn't done "right" and a few bills might slip through the cracks. Tension mounts. Eventually, one or the other may get fed up.
It can be especially frustrating when a diagnosis takes a long time coming. Celiac Disease can take 11 years, on average, to diagnose. One study found that half the patients involved had suffered for 28 years from unexplained symptoms and abnormal lab results before finally being properly diagnosed. Although education among doctors is rising, and they are slowly chipping that average down, years upon years of "stress" diagnosis and trips to the hospital (not to mention the innumerable pit stops) wear a person, and a couple, down. The suffering partner may begin to doubt themselves, or distance themselves. They are embarassed at their weakness and their physical symptoms. (No one, and I do mean No One, wants their lover to know how much time the need to spend in the bathroom. Any abdominal attack is a huge romance killer.)
The healthy partner may be frustrated by their own helplessness, and after awhile start to resent their suffering counterpart. After all, most people bounce back after a bout of the flu. So why aren't they? They may harbor secret fears that there's something more sinister about the malady, or they may take the low road and suspect that the real culprit lies somewhere in the head, rather than the gut. Such a diagnosis is devastating to someone who is suffering.
Not only is it miserable to be sick day in and day out, but the one person you should be able to count on, the one person who you can let your hair down in front of and break down in tears of frustration or rage against the latest doctor who shrugged you off is your spouse. And if they suddenly "take sides" against you, then you really start to feel like it might be hopeless.
Then comes the diagnosis. There is elation, for both parties. There is an adjustment period. And for some, that's all there is. Sure, it will take two to prepare dinners and both spouses will need to double check ingredients and be willing to make sacrifices, but there's hope.
Unfortunately, not all couples are able to come together and be made stronger by suffering. And the resultant dietary restrictions (which impact the freedom of eating out, the customary food bonding rituals, the parties and many holiday traditions) make it difficult to find common ground. Most magazine articles dealing with the subject of how to re-connect suggest relaxing with a regular date night. A relaxing dinner out is great for some...but not if your allergies are severe or if you're still learning how to manage them. For dietary-restricted individuals, a restaurant meal can be a nightmare. And it certainly won't bring you closer if you can't relax.
There are numerous counselors who suggest that a spouse spontaneously bring dinner home, another nightmare. Chocolate? Well, if he gets the "wrong one" she might end up crying, and not with happiness.
Dinnertime conversation can be difficult as well. After years of suffering, and then a period of learning, food restrictions may be paramount in your mind or theirs. There is a steep learning curve, and most people share what they are learning and excited about. (Trust me, it's exciting to learn that you aren't "just" stressed.) Sometimes that learning period lasts longer for one spouse or the other.
Parents of food allergic kids have the added stress of trying to balance their approach to the restrictions. One parent may focus on simply keeping the child safe, while the other wants to make sure that they don't "miss out" on life. And sometimes, one parent takes a stronger role in educating themselves in the restriction. There are many cases where a parent of a food allergic child chooses to "fight" the diagnosis, to the child's danger and obviously the detriment of the marriage. Our allergist says he hates being called as a witness in custody disputes, because he doesn't know which parent is right. He can only state in a court of law the same thing he's told both parents in person...avoid the offending substance.
And yet, still there remains little emotional support for those who are dealing with food restrictions, especially food allergies. There are groups such as FAAN and POFAK; but these focus on educating the masses and encouraging the food allergy sufferer to continue to live. Very little effort is put into preserving a relationship.
After all, it's just food. And once you know the problem, you're healed. It sounds easy. And from a simply medical standpoint, it is. Problem identified, treatment initiated. Problem solved.
Well, one problem is solved, but that problem opens the door to several more.
I've known several people who go through a divorce or end a long term relationship and cite their food restrictions as the final straw, if not the trigger. Many healthy partners feel that they didn't "sign up" for dietary changes and restrictions. They have their own pressures in daily life.
They don't seem to see that just because their loved one is suffering doesn't mean that they can't be a sounding board. And they may have spent a long time dreaming about "when things get back to normal". Not only are they needing to adjust to the their partner's new diet, they have to deal with the staunch reality that it will never be "the same". Their dreams need to change, too. They need a mourning period, and unfortunately, they usually feel guilty for it.
I wonder why there aren't more support groups for spouses of food allergic individuals? Or couples counselling designed for couples who are dealing with dietary restrictions. Googling has revealed very little on the subject. Even asking for help just dealing with the emtional aspect of food restrictions reveals that there is not nearly enough known about the psychological aspects of not only imposing self will to protect yourself from well meant peer pressure (Pizza! Ice Cream!) but a prolonged misdiagnosis of "stress" or "eating disorder".
If we really want to help people with food restrictions, we need to address all their needs, and work with the loved ones who are supporting them, too.
But very few of us are lucky enough to stay healthy until we're a ripe old age. And for some of us, that "sickness and in health" bit doesn't just refer to the common cold. Nor does it mean anything out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.
When diagnosed with food mediated illness, most people are given a few dietary pointers, a reassuring smile and a few lists to bring with them to the grocery store. They can buy as many cookbooks as they want and there are many support groups out there to help them learn to navigate society with a food restriction. But there aren't many guidebooks that address how devastating a food restriction can be to your relationship.
Your marriage partner signs up to love you despite your faults (and sometimes because of them.) He (or she) is supposed to be the rock that you lean on when you just aren't strong enough to go it alone, and in return, you are supposed to be healthy and strong when they need you most. This give and take is tantamount to any relationship.
So, what happens when one partner suddenly can't hold up their end of the bargain, for an extended period of time? Both partners are frustrated. The dishes don't get washed, the laundry isn't done "right" and a few bills might slip through the cracks. Tension mounts. Eventually, one or the other may get fed up.
It can be especially frustrating when a diagnosis takes a long time coming. Celiac Disease can take 11 years, on average, to diagnose. One study found that half the patients involved had suffered for 28 years from unexplained symptoms and abnormal lab results before finally being properly diagnosed. Although education among doctors is rising, and they are slowly chipping that average down, years upon years of "stress" diagnosis and trips to the hospital (not to mention the innumerable pit stops) wear a person, and a couple, down. The suffering partner may begin to doubt themselves, or distance themselves. They are embarassed at their weakness and their physical symptoms. (No one, and I do mean No One, wants their lover to know how much time the need to spend in the bathroom. Any abdominal attack is a huge romance killer.)
The healthy partner may be frustrated by their own helplessness, and after awhile start to resent their suffering counterpart. After all, most people bounce back after a bout of the flu. So why aren't they? They may harbor secret fears that there's something more sinister about the malady, or they may take the low road and suspect that the real culprit lies somewhere in the head, rather than the gut. Such a diagnosis is devastating to someone who is suffering.
Not only is it miserable to be sick day in and day out, but the one person you should be able to count on, the one person who you can let your hair down in front of and break down in tears of frustration or rage against the latest doctor who shrugged you off is your spouse. And if they suddenly "take sides" against you, then you really start to feel like it might be hopeless.
Then comes the diagnosis. There is elation, for both parties. There is an adjustment period. And for some, that's all there is. Sure, it will take two to prepare dinners and both spouses will need to double check ingredients and be willing to make sacrifices, but there's hope.
Unfortunately, not all couples are able to come together and be made stronger by suffering. And the resultant dietary restrictions (which impact the freedom of eating out, the customary food bonding rituals, the parties and many holiday traditions) make it difficult to find common ground. Most magazine articles dealing with the subject of how to re-connect suggest relaxing with a regular date night. A relaxing dinner out is great for some...but not if your allergies are severe or if you're still learning how to manage them. For dietary-restricted individuals, a restaurant meal can be a nightmare. And it certainly won't bring you closer if you can't relax.
There are numerous counselors who suggest that a spouse spontaneously bring dinner home, another nightmare. Chocolate? Well, if he gets the "wrong one" she might end up crying, and not with happiness.
Dinnertime conversation can be difficult as well. After years of suffering, and then a period of learning, food restrictions may be paramount in your mind or theirs. There is a steep learning curve, and most people share what they are learning and excited about. (Trust me, it's exciting to learn that you aren't "just" stressed.) Sometimes that learning period lasts longer for one spouse or the other.
Parents of food allergic kids have the added stress of trying to balance their approach to the restrictions. One parent may focus on simply keeping the child safe, while the other wants to make sure that they don't "miss out" on life. And sometimes, one parent takes a stronger role in educating themselves in the restriction. There are many cases where a parent of a food allergic child chooses to "fight" the diagnosis, to the child's danger and obviously the detriment of the marriage. Our allergist says he hates being called as a witness in custody disputes, because he doesn't know which parent is right. He can only state in a court of law the same thing he's told both parents in person...avoid the offending substance.
And yet, still there remains little emotional support for those who are dealing with food restrictions, especially food allergies. There are groups such as FAAN and POFAK; but these focus on educating the masses and encouraging the food allergy sufferer to continue to live. Very little effort is put into preserving a relationship.
After all, it's just food. And once you know the problem, you're healed. It sounds easy. And from a simply medical standpoint, it is. Problem identified, treatment initiated. Problem solved.
Well, one problem is solved, but that problem opens the door to several more.
I've known several people who go through a divorce or end a long term relationship and cite their food restrictions as the final straw, if not the trigger. Many healthy partners feel that they didn't "sign up" for dietary changes and restrictions. They have their own pressures in daily life.
They don't seem to see that just because their loved one is suffering doesn't mean that they can't be a sounding board. And they may have spent a long time dreaming about "when things get back to normal". Not only are they needing to adjust to the their partner's new diet, they have to deal with the staunch reality that it will never be "the same". Their dreams need to change, too. They need a mourning period, and unfortunately, they usually feel guilty for it.
I wonder why there aren't more support groups for spouses of food allergic individuals? Or couples counselling designed for couples who are dealing with dietary restrictions. Googling has revealed very little on the subject. Even asking for help just dealing with the emtional aspect of food restrictions reveals that there is not nearly enough known about the psychological aspects of not only imposing self will to protect yourself from well meant peer pressure (Pizza! Ice Cream!) but a prolonged misdiagnosis of "stress" or "eating disorder".
If we really want to help people with food restrictions, we need to address all their needs, and work with the loved ones who are supporting them, too.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The most frustrating thing in the world...
Is when you have successfully adapted a cake recipe. And you write it down. And you put it somewhere safe.
And then, when you've been craving said cake and there is a really good reason to make one, and you find a recipe that's in your handwriting. You make the recipe, thinking something seems wrong but you don't know exactly what. And when it comes out of the oven, it becomes apparent that it is nothing at all like the cake that you have been craving like crazy.
And you can't buy something similar. And when you try to find out if you wrote the recipe on the computer, you realize that you did not because your husband re organized all of your writing. In fact, his junior high papers are now mixed in with your carefully sorted-by-disk articles. Not to mention everything that you've taken hours and days and months to research about allergies and manufacturers, and...oh, yes, recipes.
And you can't just pull up a new recipe. This was converted from one that you stumbled across once that looked convertible, and took 3 tries.
You just wasted rice flour that costs $4 per pound; plus shipping. So you'll serve it to the family, who will enjoy it, but it still won't be that moist, yummy gingery cake that you've been craving and will, apparently, continue to crave until you find a similar recipe. And manage to properly convert it to gluten free/casein free/corn free. (Most gluten free recipes contain xanthan or guar gum, while guar is okay for some with corn allergies it's a major faux-pas for anyone with IBS. And why flirt with danger?)
I know the original handwritten notes are on a piece of paper I had just 2 days ago; that I used to share a different "cheese-less cheese cracker" with someone. So it has to be here somewhere. But, that doesn't make it any less disappointing.
And then, when you've been craving said cake and there is a really good reason to make one, and you find a recipe that's in your handwriting. You make the recipe, thinking something seems wrong but you don't know exactly what. And when it comes out of the oven, it becomes apparent that it is nothing at all like the cake that you have been craving like crazy.
And you can't buy something similar. And when you try to find out if you wrote the recipe on the computer, you realize that you did not because your husband re organized all of your writing. In fact, his junior high papers are now mixed in with your carefully sorted-by-disk articles. Not to mention everything that you've taken hours and days and months to research about allergies and manufacturers, and...oh, yes, recipes.
And you can't just pull up a new recipe. This was converted from one that you stumbled across once that looked convertible, and took 3 tries.
You just wasted rice flour that costs $4 per pound; plus shipping. So you'll serve it to the family, who will enjoy it, but it still won't be that moist, yummy gingery cake that you've been craving and will, apparently, continue to crave until you find a similar recipe. And manage to properly convert it to gluten free/casein free/corn free. (Most gluten free recipes contain xanthan or guar gum, while guar is okay for some with corn allergies it's a major faux-pas for anyone with IBS. And why flirt with danger?)
I know the original handwritten notes are on a piece of paper I had just 2 days ago; that I used to share a different "cheese-less cheese cracker" with someone. So it has to be here somewhere. But, that doesn't make it any less disappointing.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The A - Z Reading Challenge
If I'm going to try it, I might as well keep track of it.
And I suppose I might as well publish it, too, rather than keep it here on edit for all time...To be continuously updated. I hope!
A- Animal Vegetable Miracle by B Kingsolver
B- Brain that Changes Itself - Intriguing book, I learned a lot!
C- Cereal for Dinner -
D- Deerskin by Robin Mckinley - Enjoyed it; not appropriate at all for Penguin.
E- Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn - I'm not really a fan of the epistolary novel, but this one had a neat premise. Quick read, loved the way the letters got more academic and then turned rather red-neck before resolution occurred.
F- the Frog Princess By E.D. Baker - This is our current read aloud series. Very cute books.
G-
H- Healing the New Childhood Epidemics - Good book about various (alternative) treatments to allergies, asthma, ADHD and autism. Kind of a "bring to the dr with you" sort of thing, though.
I-
J- Jerome K. Jerome's 3 men in a Boat - OMG, why had I never heard of this guy before? Loved it! And it's still totally relevant. Maybe a little outdated...but not so much that I had to stretch my imagination. I ended up reading quite a bit out loud to my dh.
K- Kabul Beauty School -
L- Loving Frank - Interesting read. I didn't like it, exactly. I was frustrated by their attitudes about "Living True". But, it was intriguing and I'm interested in looking up Ellen Keys work. (Oddly, I agree with the conflicting attitudes although they confused the heroine.) Did not see the end coming, I guess my history lessons were lacking!!!
M- March - Okay, I really liked this book, except for the gory bits. I'm squeamish, but it was a good read. Based on the life of Mr. Alcott, as Little Women was based on Louisa May's family life.
N-
O-
P- Picture of Dorian Gray by Wilde (Loved the beginning, the story however disturbed me more than anticipated.) Also screened Princess Ben for Penguin; totally appropriate and I ended up reading the whole thing.
Q- Queen Bees and Wannabees - As the mother of a tweenager, I really wish I hadn't read this book! Okay, okay, I know I *needed* to. But, ouch. I want to lock my baby up forever, now. (And I realized that some people never really outgrow cliques. Explains a few things.)
R- Rose Daughter by McKinley - The ending was a little too much. But I still enjoyed it.
S- Spindle's End by Mckinley -- OMG. could not put it down! Penguin and I have been playing tug of war with this one. Might even be worth owning. This is the 3rd McKinley book I've read this year, hmmm...Maybe I need to branch out a little...
T- To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis -- I'm not usually a sci-fi fan, but I really enjoyed this one! I found myself laughing out loud a few times.
U- The Unhealthy Truth by Robyn O'brian -- Wow. I just don't know what else to say.
V-
W- Who the H*ll is Pansy O'Hara -- Rather a dry read, but very interesting. Lists the back story on great books and authors of our time.
X-
Y-
Z-
**And I've even decided to add my thoughts on the books. You'll have to forgive the frequent editing; I'm not sure how else to keep it updated. And if I log it with the intention of reading THROUGH the alphabet, I'm more motivated to find a good book...
And I suppose I might as well publish it, too, rather than keep it here on edit for all time...To be continuously updated. I hope!
A- Animal Vegetable Miracle by B Kingsolver
B- Brain that Changes Itself - Intriguing book, I learned a lot!
C- Cereal for Dinner -
D- Deerskin by Robin Mckinley - Enjoyed it; not appropriate at all for Penguin.
E- Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn - I'm not really a fan of the epistolary novel, but this one had a neat premise. Quick read, loved the way the letters got more academic and then turned rather red-neck before resolution occurred.
F- the Frog Princess By E.D. Baker - This is our current read aloud series. Very cute books.
G-
H- Healing the New Childhood Epidemics - Good book about various (alternative) treatments to allergies, asthma, ADHD and autism. Kind of a "bring to the dr with you" sort of thing, though.
I-
J- Jerome K. Jerome's 3 men in a Boat - OMG, why had I never heard of this guy before? Loved it! And it's still totally relevant. Maybe a little outdated...but not so much that I had to stretch my imagination. I ended up reading quite a bit out loud to my dh.
K- Kabul Beauty School -
L- Loving Frank - Interesting read. I didn't like it, exactly. I was frustrated by their attitudes about "Living True". But, it was intriguing and I'm interested in looking up Ellen Keys work. (Oddly, I agree with the conflicting attitudes although they confused the heroine.) Did not see the end coming, I guess my history lessons were lacking!!!
M- March - Okay, I really liked this book, except for the gory bits. I'm squeamish, but it was a good read. Based on the life of Mr. Alcott, as Little Women was based on Louisa May's family life.
N-
O-
P- Picture of Dorian Gray by Wilde (Loved the beginning, the story however disturbed me more than anticipated.) Also screened Princess Ben for Penguin; totally appropriate and I ended up reading the whole thing.
Q- Queen Bees and Wannabees - As the mother of a tweenager, I really wish I hadn't read this book! Okay, okay, I know I *needed* to. But, ouch. I want to lock my baby up forever, now. (And I realized that some people never really outgrow cliques. Explains a few things.)
R- Rose Daughter by McKinley - The ending was a little too much. But I still enjoyed it.
S- Spindle's End by Mckinley -- OMG. could not put it down! Penguin and I have been playing tug of war with this one. Might even be worth owning. This is the 3rd McKinley book I've read this year, hmmm...Maybe I need to branch out a little...
T- To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis -- I'm not usually a sci-fi fan, but I really enjoyed this one! I found myself laughing out loud a few times.
U- The Unhealthy Truth by Robyn O'brian -- Wow. I just don't know what else to say.
V-
W- Who the H*ll is Pansy O'Hara -- Rather a dry read, but very interesting. Lists the back story on great books and authors of our time.
X-
Y-
Z-
**And I've even decided to add my thoughts on the books. You'll have to forgive the frequent editing; I'm not sure how else to keep it updated. And if I log it with the intention of reading THROUGH the alphabet, I'm more motivated to find a good book...
Monday, January 12, 2009
My daughter's Journey
Although I often find myself sharing bits and pieces of my oldest daughter's story, I have yet to write it out with all the minute details. And those minute details will only get fuzzier as time goes by.
So here it is, in hopes that others can learn from our mistakes.
Penguin was what's known as a "happy spitter". In hindsight, she had all the hallmarks of classic reflux, but I was a first time mom. It didn't seem odd to pack 2 changes of clothes for her, an extra blouse for me and some receiving blankets to use as towels just so we could dash to the grocery store. That's why we had a diaper bag. And in the words of our pediatrician, all babies spit up. Some parents worry more than others. *smile*
So we didn't worry. I learned to sleep with her propped on my shoulder until she was crawling, because if she went back in the crib after that midnight feeding, she'd spit, choke, and we'd be up all night.
Dutifully, we introduced rice cereal just before she turned 6 months old. She started spitting up less, and slept a little better. "Of course, it stays with her longer than mommy's milk" our wise pediatrician told us. We never thought about the thick porridge simply being easier to keep in.
Soon afterward, we stayed with my inlaws for a few days. I took a nap, and was woken by a screaming baby.
"She wants mommy," my mother in law shrugged.
But my daughter had never cried like this before. She sounded as if she were in pain. She spat up, and it was discolored. I called the dr.
While waiting anxiously for him to call back, my sister in law suggested I feed her more yoghurt.
More?
Apparently she'd been hungry earlier and they'd gotten almost an entire carton of yoghurt down. That explained the funky spit up. The pediatrician called back, gave me a lecture on early dairy introduction (don't do it) and told me to ride it out.
She didn't scream like that again for almost a year, when we introduced cows milk. She screamed as angry bubbles gurgled in her tummy, and I prayed it wasn't really an allergy. The pediatrician reassuringly suggested we wait a few weeks and try cheese, instead. Cheese is easier to digest.
Around this time, she also began complaining of headaches. She'd insist on playing with the curtains drawn. "Light hurt!" Classic migraines, which her father and I get too. We thought the poor kid was just starting early. And man, was she susceptible to "the stomach flu". But it couldn't be the cheese. Cheese is healthy, the dr assured us.
When she collapsed on the ground, pale, sweaty and screaming hysterically,we raced to the pediatrician. "Did you try Tylenol?" A sheepish "no". He told us to try Tylenol next time. No fever, no vomiting. (that came later, and we were assured, was migraine related.) It couldn't have been the mac and cheese followed by ice cream. No way. Nuh, uh. Dairy foods are important, remember? Calcium is vital to growing bones.
I did start to suspect that there was some sort of dairy issue. It tugged at the back of my mind. But, it wasn't blatant. No rashes. No prolonged vomiting. She gained great. Everyone told me I was paranoid. And frankly, I didn't feel that great myself so it was easy to ignore the red flags.
We decided it might be a "tolerance" issue. We avoided liquid milk, the occasional accidental sip at church or a friend's house gave her horrible tummy aches. But cheese was okay, at least in moderation. Sure she still got tummy aches, but those were from overeating. Or excitement. Or, something. Kids get tummy aches. You hug them and put them to bed.
Right?
At some point we went back to the doctor. We saw a pediatric GI. We did some testing. We found nothing. "She's got you wrapped around her finger," he said waggling his own finger. He told me to quit worrying. (Interestingly enough, I read the GI doctor's report recently. He write that the "mother", me, had obvious symptoms of Celiac Disease and definite Dermatitis Herpetiformis. So much for "rosacea" and "stress". I still wish he'd explained those things to me, personally. He did not test Penguin properly for Celiac disease.)
She was an extreme child. She'd run away and when caught and scolded, she'd soon turn pale and sweaty and have a headache. The doctors told me it was migraine. "Geesh, she's starting early." And that at her age, all we could do was give her Tylenol or Motrin and put her to bed. Give her lots of hugs and snuggles.
We'd fight over tooth brushing. I'd put the baby in the crib, pin Penguin down, scrub those teeth and let her spit. She'd cry. She'd apologize for being difficult. She'd complain of a headache. I'd hug her and tell her that if she wouldn't fight so hard, she wouldn't get a headache. Then we'd go through the process again.
She developed cyclic vomiting. "It's migraine related," I was told. Don't worry. No, not food. Don't take her off dairy. She's a growing girl. She needs the calcium. Just keep tabs on anything acidic, like OJ.
We learned to adapt. After all, I didn't feel that great myself. I focused on whole foods, finding that perfect level of health. My husband commented that he felt so much better, and I wondered why it wasn't helping us?
I started to worry that there was something serious when I found my 4 y/o curled up under the slide holding her head, and she asked me if we could invite some kids home so she could lay in bed and listen to them play.
That's not normal.
The dr shrugged helplessly.
When the baby was dx with a nut allergy, the pediatrician tapped his chin and suggested that we look for foods as a trigger for Penguin's headaches. I found several books on the subject. We tried an elimination diet. The rash on my face cleared up (An ah-ha moment for me) but her headaches were still there.
The doctor told me to use Motrin and Tylenol. He gave me the "safe" high end dose for her weight (not the one on the package) and I bought them in different flavors so that she could differentiate which made her headache worse. She claimed Motrin made her head hurt. "Impossible," the doctor said. Next month, she complained that Tylenol made her head hurt. The doctor suggested we look into a behavioral cause, rather than honest to goodness pain. If it weren't for the sudden loss of color in her face and the way she seemed so frustrated by her headaches, I'd have believed him.
When she entered Kindergarten, the school called on a regular basis to have me pick her up. The first time I found her covered in blue vomit, I said "Ew." The second time it happened, I remembered the grape flavored medicine. I told the teacher not to serve her any more fruit chews or jelly beans during math lesson. She spent less time in the office.
We noticed that her toothpaste was blue, and switched to Tom's of Maine.
She began brushing her own teeth and the nightly headache went away. (I still feel like a heel)
But we only had a piece of the puzzle.
She was still getting headaches, just not quite as spectacular. Every birthday party resulted in tummy aches. So did school parties, and hot lunch. We called it some sort of lactose intolerance, and blamed the rest on excitement.
There are things we choose not to believe.
We went through allergy testing, found that she was allergic to grass (which explained the mystery hives after PE) and certain trees (we later traced tree-tag to headaches and rashes, as well) We were put on a more thorough elimination diet. She got better, but not 100% after eliminating dairy. And she got an "unrelated" sinus infection that wouldn't quit.
We started working on the sinus infections. She was running fevers of 105, 106. I'd walk in to check on her and could smell her cooking. The fever would break within an hour, and we were told that was good. Just a sinus infection. Use pseuphedrine. Push fluids. Here's some flonase and antibiotics.
Eventually, we discovered that her adenoids were blocking the drainage from her sinuses. Given the excessively high fevers, we opted to remove them. Sinus infections gone.
Headaches with vomiting still present. On to medication for migraines.
(Meanwhile, I was dx with celiac and a host of other food intolerances.)
After the migraine medication worked for a period of time, Penguin commented that it was weird that she still threw up. This was news to me, and she gave a vivid description of reflux. She considered it normal. Just like going to bed with a tummy ache after a birthday party was normal. It was a good thing we knew to avoid blue sprinkles, because a headache on top of those tummy aches would have been really bad.
Back to the doctor. Reflux is associated with dairy. It wouldn't hurt to cut it out. But give it 6 weeks this time.
During those 6 weeks, she had only one tummy ache with vomiting. It followed a glass of chocolate rice milk that contained whey protein. At the end of 6 weeks, my 8 year old turned down pizza or macaroni (two favorite foods) because she didn't want those tummy aches back. I realized that I no longer had to change her pillowcase daily. She didn't have a sore throat in the mornings. She slept a little better, too. And we were able to successfully cut back her migraine meds.
The best part? Instant improved confidence. She wanted to go on playdates. She was glad to go to Girl Scouts and birthday parties. And she told me how to best advocate for her needs.
Since then, we've added gluten to the mix. I worry about limiting her too much, and making her feel "different". She's not anaphylactic, and as far as the doctor could tell there was no villous damage (yet). The gluten was for residual headaches and family reasons. (Plus, when she got inadvertently and secretly "glutened" it caused physical symptoms.) But as she tells me, it's harder to be sick in front of your friends than it is to not eat what they eat. Of course, that doesn't mean it's easy to say no to cookies.
My grocery bill is sky high, I don't know what to make for dinner, and some days I just want to go back to bed and call for pizza.
But my daughter is healthy, and that's what matters.
Rice pasta anyone?
So here it is, in hopes that others can learn from our mistakes.
Penguin was what's known as a "happy spitter". In hindsight, she had all the hallmarks of classic reflux, but I was a first time mom. It didn't seem odd to pack 2 changes of clothes for her, an extra blouse for me and some receiving blankets to use as towels just so we could dash to the grocery store. That's why we had a diaper bag. And in the words of our pediatrician, all babies spit up. Some parents worry more than others. *smile*
So we didn't worry. I learned to sleep with her propped on my shoulder until she was crawling, because if she went back in the crib after that midnight feeding, she'd spit, choke, and we'd be up all night.
Dutifully, we introduced rice cereal just before she turned 6 months old. She started spitting up less, and slept a little better. "Of course, it stays with her longer than mommy's milk" our wise pediatrician told us. We never thought about the thick porridge simply being easier to keep in.
Soon afterward, we stayed with my inlaws for a few days. I took a nap, and was woken by a screaming baby.
"She wants mommy," my mother in law shrugged.
But my daughter had never cried like this before. She sounded as if she were in pain. She spat up, and it was discolored. I called the dr.
While waiting anxiously for him to call back, my sister in law suggested I feed her more yoghurt.
More?
Apparently she'd been hungry earlier and they'd gotten almost an entire carton of yoghurt down. That explained the funky spit up. The pediatrician called back, gave me a lecture on early dairy introduction (don't do it) and told me to ride it out.
She didn't scream like that again for almost a year, when we introduced cows milk. She screamed as angry bubbles gurgled in her tummy, and I prayed it wasn't really an allergy. The pediatrician reassuringly suggested we wait a few weeks and try cheese, instead. Cheese is easier to digest.
Around this time, she also began complaining of headaches. She'd insist on playing with the curtains drawn. "Light hurt!" Classic migraines, which her father and I get too. We thought the poor kid was just starting early. And man, was she susceptible to "the stomach flu". But it couldn't be the cheese. Cheese is healthy, the dr assured us.
When she collapsed on the ground, pale, sweaty and screaming hysterically,we raced to the pediatrician. "Did you try Tylenol?" A sheepish "no". He told us to try Tylenol next time. No fever, no vomiting. (that came later, and we were assured, was migraine related.) It couldn't have been the mac and cheese followed by ice cream. No way. Nuh, uh. Dairy foods are important, remember? Calcium is vital to growing bones.
I did start to suspect that there was some sort of dairy issue. It tugged at the back of my mind. But, it wasn't blatant. No rashes. No prolonged vomiting. She gained great. Everyone told me I was paranoid. And frankly, I didn't feel that great myself so it was easy to ignore the red flags.
We decided it might be a "tolerance" issue. We avoided liquid milk, the occasional accidental sip at church or a friend's house gave her horrible tummy aches. But cheese was okay, at least in moderation. Sure she still got tummy aches, but those were from overeating. Or excitement. Or, something. Kids get tummy aches. You hug them and put them to bed.
Right?
At some point we went back to the doctor. We saw a pediatric GI. We did some testing. We found nothing. "She's got you wrapped around her finger," he said waggling his own finger. He told me to quit worrying. (Interestingly enough, I read the GI doctor's report recently. He write that the "mother", me, had obvious symptoms of Celiac Disease and definite Dermatitis Herpetiformis. So much for "rosacea" and "stress". I still wish he'd explained those things to me, personally. He did not test Penguin properly for Celiac disease.)
She was an extreme child. She'd run away and when caught and scolded, she'd soon turn pale and sweaty and have a headache. The doctors told me it was migraine. "Geesh, she's starting early." And that at her age, all we could do was give her Tylenol or Motrin and put her to bed. Give her lots of hugs and snuggles.
We'd fight over tooth brushing. I'd put the baby in the crib, pin Penguin down, scrub those teeth and let her spit. She'd cry. She'd apologize for being difficult. She'd complain of a headache. I'd hug her and tell her that if she wouldn't fight so hard, she wouldn't get a headache. Then we'd go through the process again.
She developed cyclic vomiting. "It's migraine related," I was told. Don't worry. No, not food. Don't take her off dairy. She's a growing girl. She needs the calcium. Just keep tabs on anything acidic, like OJ.
We learned to adapt. After all, I didn't feel that great myself. I focused on whole foods, finding that perfect level of health. My husband commented that he felt so much better, and I wondered why it wasn't helping us?
I started to worry that there was something serious when I found my 4 y/o curled up under the slide holding her head, and she asked me if we could invite some kids home so she could lay in bed and listen to them play.
That's not normal.
The dr shrugged helplessly.
When the baby was dx with a nut allergy, the pediatrician tapped his chin and suggested that we look for foods as a trigger for Penguin's headaches. I found several books on the subject. We tried an elimination diet. The rash on my face cleared up (An ah-ha moment for me) but her headaches were still there.
The doctor told me to use Motrin and Tylenol. He gave me the "safe" high end dose for her weight (not the one on the package) and I bought them in different flavors so that she could differentiate which made her headache worse. She claimed Motrin made her head hurt. "Impossible," the doctor said. Next month, she complained that Tylenol made her head hurt. The doctor suggested we look into a behavioral cause, rather than honest to goodness pain. If it weren't for the sudden loss of color in her face and the way she seemed so frustrated by her headaches, I'd have believed him.
When she entered Kindergarten, the school called on a regular basis to have me pick her up. The first time I found her covered in blue vomit, I said "Ew." The second time it happened, I remembered the grape flavored medicine. I told the teacher not to serve her any more fruit chews or jelly beans during math lesson. She spent less time in the office.
We noticed that her toothpaste was blue, and switched to Tom's of Maine.
She began brushing her own teeth and the nightly headache went away. (I still feel like a heel)
But we only had a piece of the puzzle.
She was still getting headaches, just not quite as spectacular. Every birthday party resulted in tummy aches. So did school parties, and hot lunch. We called it some sort of lactose intolerance, and blamed the rest on excitement.
There are things we choose not to believe.
We went through allergy testing, found that she was allergic to grass (which explained the mystery hives after PE) and certain trees (we later traced tree-tag to headaches and rashes, as well) We were put on a more thorough elimination diet. She got better, but not 100% after eliminating dairy. And she got an "unrelated" sinus infection that wouldn't quit.
We started working on the sinus infections. She was running fevers of 105, 106. I'd walk in to check on her and could smell her cooking. The fever would break within an hour, and we were told that was good. Just a sinus infection. Use pseuphedrine. Push fluids. Here's some flonase and antibiotics.
Eventually, we discovered that her adenoids were blocking the drainage from her sinuses. Given the excessively high fevers, we opted to remove them. Sinus infections gone.
Headaches with vomiting still present. On to medication for migraines.
(Meanwhile, I was dx with celiac and a host of other food intolerances.)
After the migraine medication worked for a period of time, Penguin commented that it was weird that she still threw up. This was news to me, and she gave a vivid description of reflux. She considered it normal. Just like going to bed with a tummy ache after a birthday party was normal. It was a good thing we knew to avoid blue sprinkles, because a headache on top of those tummy aches would have been really bad.
Back to the doctor. Reflux is associated with dairy. It wouldn't hurt to cut it out. But give it 6 weeks this time.
During those 6 weeks, she had only one tummy ache with vomiting. It followed a glass of chocolate rice milk that contained whey protein. At the end of 6 weeks, my 8 year old turned down pizza or macaroni (two favorite foods) because she didn't want those tummy aches back. I realized that I no longer had to change her pillowcase daily. She didn't have a sore throat in the mornings. She slept a little better, too. And we were able to successfully cut back her migraine meds.
The best part? Instant improved confidence. She wanted to go on playdates. She was glad to go to Girl Scouts and birthday parties. And she told me how to best advocate for her needs.
Since then, we've added gluten to the mix. I worry about limiting her too much, and making her feel "different". She's not anaphylactic, and as far as the doctor could tell there was no villous damage (yet). The gluten was for residual headaches and family reasons. (Plus, when she got inadvertently and secretly "glutened" it caused physical symptoms.) But as she tells me, it's harder to be sick in front of your friends than it is to not eat what they eat. Of course, that doesn't mean it's easy to say no to cookies.
My grocery bill is sky high, I don't know what to make for dinner, and some days I just want to go back to bed and call for pizza.
But my daughter is healthy, and that's what matters.
Rice pasta anyone?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Geneticall Modified Organisms
The very name sounds frightening. But it doesn't come close to the problem.
Why am I talking about Genetic Modifications, or GMOs? The subject has come up frequently since president elect Obama's choice for Secretary of Agriculture, Vilsack, was announced about a month ago. Vilsack is known as a proponent of bio-tech...in ither words, he is believed to strongly support research into genetic modification of crops and animal cloning etc.
GMOs have been the subject of hot debate for many years, and they don't appear to be falling off the docket any time soon. The "pro" side claims that genetic modification has gone on for centuries, and the current gene-splicing research is simply a modern, streamlined version of what orur forefathers did. The idea being that farmers of old would indeed try to cross breed varieties of wheat, corn, oats, etc to bring out the more desirable traits. Like breeding horses, sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. And when it didn't, they probably lay in bed thinking that there had to be a better way.
Enter gene splicing. Now we don't have to rely on the whim of mother nature to get the exact traits we're looking for. In a nutshell, scientists find what they are seeking in DNA, then splice the DNA together and watch what happens.
It seems like a good plan. It's certainly more succinct than cross breeding, growing and then harvesting. It's much more scientific than finger crossing and silent prayer.
But the "con" side wants to know about potential pitfalls. Is it safe for human consumption? Is it safe for non-human consumption? Is it safe for the environment? The fact is that we don't know. There's a lot that we just don't know, and that ignorance cn prove fatal for the environment. (I think we're all well acquainted with DDT controversy of the 60's. Dr. Muller actually won a nobel prize for discovering that DDT could be used as an insecticidal. 20 years later, the Dept of Agriculture was phasing it out due to it's possible role in the dramatic decline of the Peregrine Falcon population.)
The threat of GMOs go much deeper than insecticides and pesticides and herbicides. The fear of GMOs comes with the realization that it is virtually impossible to experiment with GMOs and keep the genetically modified genes contained. Nature still does it's job, as it's been programmed to do year after year. Birds eat seed in the field, squirrels steal seed and they get transported. The pollen travels on the wind to another local (organic?) field. And, like time immemorial, the genetic alterations are preserved. Offspring shoot up along highways, and in the middle of other fields. Heirloom varieties of various produce and grain get tainted. These occurrences are impossible to contain, and are impossible to reverse. Even worse? It takes a professional with fancy lab equipment to tell the difference.
That may seem like a good thing. If the only difference between genetically altered crops and normal crops is under a microscope, what's the fuss? Right?
Right?
Wrong. Our bodies may not be able to interpret the difference with our five traditional senses, but over time the differences may reveal themselves.
There was a time when obstetricians reccomended that pregnant women take up smoking, since it made childbirth that much easier. They have turned tables on that advice since the realization that babies with smaller birthrates had a lower survival rate. And a glass of wine is no longer reccomended either, due to the affect alcohol has on a still forming fetus.
These correlations took years to make. And thousands, if not millions, of human beings paid the price. Our children benefit by learning from those mistakes, though.
Genetic Modification doesn't leave room for them to benefit if big companies like Monsanto are wrong. If GMOs are as dangerous to the environment (and the animal life ingesting them) as some people fear, the price will be a hefty one. Clean up efforts will take lifetimes. There will be no starting over from square one, because simply by growing these man-manipulated organisms, we are setting them free in the wild. And honestly...our knowledge is not yet deep enough to truly fathom the potential far reaching implications of those actions.
Through traditional modifications, the gluten content of grain has more than tripled since ancient times. As has the incidence of celiac disease. (Yes, wasting diseases that sound like Celiac were reported even in biblical times) In fact, areas where wheat was most recently introduced (such as southern Ireland) have the highest incidence of Celiac disease.
What does that have to do with GMOs? Well, by using natural resources, humans interfered with nature's plan, developing higher gluten content in wheat and then learned to regret it in certain poulations. Luckily...due to our forced limitations, we were able to identify and treat the problem (hence, 1 in 133 people "simply" avoid gluten containing grains.)
How do we track down reactions to a DNA variability embedded in "normal" food? When one potato chip doesn't attack, but the next one does?
What will happen when a full percent of the poulation needs to avoid GMOs for medical reasons? If that number rises? And those GMOs are rampant in our food supply, blowing unchecked through our prized amber waves of grain?
What if 3 generations down the road, a Nobel Peace prize is awarded to the woman who discovers that early or prenatal exposure to GMOs are linked with heart disease in later life, or infertility, or some new, unknown plague that will only become apparent in our offspring?
What if Genetic Modification isn't a legacy, but a curse?
Organic groups have playfully deemed Genetically Modified Organisms as "Frankenfood", citing the eerily apt connection between Mary Shelley's ignorant but brilliant protagonist and our own agricultural industry's ambitious vision. But just as in her dark fantasy, I fear that "Frankenfood" will come to haunt us for generations to come.
And that's why I signed a petition (I know, internet petitions get little recognition according to Snopes. But it's something.), and sent in letters through a link in this article. And why I prefer organic foods, even when allergies don't demand them.
Why am I talking about Genetic Modifications, or GMOs? The subject has come up frequently since president elect Obama's choice for Secretary of Agriculture, Vilsack, was announced about a month ago. Vilsack is known as a proponent of bio-tech...in ither words, he is believed to strongly support research into genetic modification of crops and animal cloning etc.
GMOs have been the subject of hot debate for many years, and they don't appear to be falling off the docket any time soon. The "pro" side claims that genetic modification has gone on for centuries, and the current gene-splicing research is simply a modern, streamlined version of what orur forefathers did. The idea being that farmers of old would indeed try to cross breed varieties of wheat, corn, oats, etc to bring out the more desirable traits. Like breeding horses, sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. And when it didn't, they probably lay in bed thinking that there had to be a better way.
Enter gene splicing. Now we don't have to rely on the whim of mother nature to get the exact traits we're looking for. In a nutshell, scientists find what they are seeking in DNA, then splice the DNA together and watch what happens.
It seems like a good plan. It's certainly more succinct than cross breeding, growing and then harvesting. It's much more scientific than finger crossing and silent prayer.
But the "con" side wants to know about potential pitfalls. Is it safe for human consumption? Is it safe for non-human consumption? Is it safe for the environment? The fact is that we don't know. There's a lot that we just don't know, and that ignorance cn prove fatal for the environment. (I think we're all well acquainted with DDT controversy of the 60's. Dr. Muller actually won a nobel prize for discovering that DDT could be used as an insecticidal. 20 years later, the Dept of Agriculture was phasing it out due to it's possible role in the dramatic decline of the Peregrine Falcon population.)
The threat of GMOs go much deeper than insecticides and pesticides and herbicides. The fear of GMOs comes with the realization that it is virtually impossible to experiment with GMOs and keep the genetically modified genes contained. Nature still does it's job, as it's been programmed to do year after year. Birds eat seed in the field, squirrels steal seed and they get transported. The pollen travels on the wind to another local (organic?) field. And, like time immemorial, the genetic alterations are preserved. Offspring shoot up along highways, and in the middle of other fields. Heirloom varieties of various produce and grain get tainted. These occurrences are impossible to contain, and are impossible to reverse. Even worse? It takes a professional with fancy lab equipment to tell the difference.
That may seem like a good thing. If the only difference between genetically altered crops and normal crops is under a microscope, what's the fuss? Right?
Right?
Wrong. Our bodies may not be able to interpret the difference with our five traditional senses, but over time the differences may reveal themselves.
There was a time when obstetricians reccomended that pregnant women take up smoking, since it made childbirth that much easier. They have turned tables on that advice since the realization that babies with smaller birthrates had a lower survival rate. And a glass of wine is no longer reccomended either, due to the affect alcohol has on a still forming fetus.
These correlations took years to make. And thousands, if not millions, of human beings paid the price. Our children benefit by learning from those mistakes, though.
Genetic Modification doesn't leave room for them to benefit if big companies like Monsanto are wrong. If GMOs are as dangerous to the environment (and the animal life ingesting them) as some people fear, the price will be a hefty one. Clean up efforts will take lifetimes. There will be no starting over from square one, because simply by growing these man-manipulated organisms, we are setting them free in the wild. And honestly...our knowledge is not yet deep enough to truly fathom the potential far reaching implications of those actions.
Through traditional modifications, the gluten content of grain has more than tripled since ancient times. As has the incidence of celiac disease. (Yes, wasting diseases that sound like Celiac were reported even in biblical times) In fact, areas where wheat was most recently introduced (such as southern Ireland) have the highest incidence of Celiac disease.
What does that have to do with GMOs? Well, by using natural resources, humans interfered with nature's plan, developing higher gluten content in wheat and then learned to regret it in certain poulations. Luckily...due to our forced limitations, we were able to identify and treat the problem (hence, 1 in 133 people "simply" avoid gluten containing grains.)
How do we track down reactions to a DNA variability embedded in "normal" food? When one potato chip doesn't attack, but the next one does?
What will happen when a full percent of the poulation needs to avoid GMOs for medical reasons? If that number rises? And those GMOs are rampant in our food supply, blowing unchecked through our prized amber waves of grain?
What if 3 generations down the road, a Nobel Peace prize is awarded to the woman who discovers that early or prenatal exposure to GMOs are linked with heart disease in later life, or infertility, or some new, unknown plague that will only become apparent in our offspring?
What if Genetic Modification isn't a legacy, but a curse?
Organic groups have playfully deemed Genetically Modified Organisms as "Frankenfood", citing the eerily apt connection between Mary Shelley's ignorant but brilliant protagonist and our own agricultural industry's ambitious vision. But just as in her dark fantasy, I fear that "Frankenfood" will come to haunt us for generations to come.
And that's why I signed a petition (I know, internet petitions get little recognition according to Snopes. But it's something.), and sent in letters through a link in this article. And why I prefer organic foods, even when allergies don't demand them.
Friday, January 02, 2009
It's a New Year...
Happy New Years!
2008 was...long. It was chalk full of good and bad, and yet the two went hand in hand so that I couldn't extract one from the other even if I were to try.
For anyone wondering, my reaction is subsiding. The last little bit (the part that drove me over the edge) was tracked down to a parenting choice. I chose to expose myself to airborne corn and gluten rather than leave my daughter crying at girl scouts. I don't know if I would change that decision, although I've been trying really hard to deny that it was what pushed me over the edge.
My abdomen still feels bruised, but I'm doing better and certainly more cheerful. The turn in my mood coming just in time to enjoy the final night of Hanukkah lights, and the warmth of good company. (A cold has since struck, but since my reaction to waking up with a scratchy throat and fever was to fall back in the pillows and laugh until I couldn't breathe, I think it's safe to say I'm feeling better.)
I just filled the freezer with gluten free brownies (that won't last long); there's a pot of rice in the fridge to make fried rice out of and a can of theoretically corn free tuna I'm debating about guinea pigging.
The big question being...do I really want to be a guinea pig when I've bee sick for a month? And the answer being no. But, I also want a low-fiber form of protein besides eggs. So I'm still flirting with the thought of tuna.
My list of New Years Resolutions is relatively simple and some of them utterly un-American Woman.
* Gain 10 pounds. Or however much I need to make that freaky floating rib disappear when I'm changing anywhere near a mirror.
* Find 3 recipes everyone in the family can and will eat. Healthy recipes...not desserts.
* Read. I'm thinking of taking the alphabet challenge...26 books, one for each letter of the alphabet. But I want to read non-fiction, too. I really want to brush up on current allergy/intolerance literature...it's just that some of it makes me too mad to continue.
*Make my dollars count. I'm going to strive to think about what each dollar represents, look for American Made goods and (ouch) pay a little extra to support local business. (I only said a LITTLE extra).
*Re-feather our nest egg. I still want a house before the kids grow up and jump ship...And a car that isn't a money pit.
As for last years resolutions?
They were cheesy.
But I did it.
I reintroduced pinto beans and peas to my diet; broadening my options a lot.
I also did a decent job avoiding plastic. The only plastic bags I brought into the house were from our Disney trip (I totally forgot to bring bags on vacation) and the Mervyn's clearance sale; when their clearance policy required purchases to be stapled into plastic bags. And we put enough into savings to keep us in our home (without selling our souls to the bank) until my husband found a job after his company went under.
Life's good.
2008 was...long. It was chalk full of good and bad, and yet the two went hand in hand so that I couldn't extract one from the other even if I were to try.
For anyone wondering, my reaction is subsiding. The last little bit (the part that drove me over the edge) was tracked down to a parenting choice. I chose to expose myself to airborne corn and gluten rather than leave my daughter crying at girl scouts. I don't know if I would change that decision, although I've been trying really hard to deny that it was what pushed me over the edge.
My abdomen still feels bruised, but I'm doing better and certainly more cheerful. The turn in my mood coming just in time to enjoy the final night of Hanukkah lights, and the warmth of good company. (A cold has since struck, but since my reaction to waking up with a scratchy throat and fever was to fall back in the pillows and laugh until I couldn't breathe, I think it's safe to say I'm feeling better.)
I just filled the freezer with gluten free brownies (that won't last long); there's a pot of rice in the fridge to make fried rice out of and a can of theoretically corn free tuna I'm debating about guinea pigging.
The big question being...do I really want to be a guinea pig when I've bee sick for a month? And the answer being no. But, I also want a low-fiber form of protein besides eggs. So I'm still flirting with the thought of tuna.
My list of New Years Resolutions is relatively simple and some of them utterly un-American Woman.
* Gain 10 pounds. Or however much I need to make that freaky floating rib disappear when I'm changing anywhere near a mirror.
* Find 3 recipes everyone in the family can and will eat. Healthy recipes...not desserts.
* Read. I'm thinking of taking the alphabet challenge...26 books, one for each letter of the alphabet. But I want to read non-fiction, too. I really want to brush up on current allergy/intolerance literature...it's just that some of it makes me too mad to continue.
*Make my dollars count. I'm going to strive to think about what each dollar represents, look for American Made goods and (ouch) pay a little extra to support local business. (I only said a LITTLE extra).
*Re-feather our nest egg. I still want a house before the kids grow up and jump ship...And a car that isn't a money pit.
As for last years resolutions?
They were cheesy.
But I did it.
I reintroduced pinto beans and peas to my diet; broadening my options a lot.
I also did a decent job avoiding plastic. The only plastic bags I brought into the house were from our Disney trip (I totally forgot to bring bags on vacation) and the Mervyn's clearance sale; when their clearance policy required purchases to be stapled into plastic bags. And we put enough into savings to keep us in our home (without selling our souls to the bank) until my husband found a job after his company went under.
Life's good.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
I want to take a moment to thank everyone for their support. I'm still dealing with a reaction, and some lingering depression; but I know that it's going to be short lived. (Okay, so I don't know. But I really, really hope it is...) And that helps.
Now, for the actual blog entry. The reason I've decided to leave my earlier ramble up is so that I can refer back to it; also so that others who deal with reactions can possibly relate. Any kind of GI trouble is so socially taboo that it feels isolating, it's not something we talk about. And when we feel better; we try not to think about it. Don't know about you, but I try really hard not to relive moments of physical pain.
Through the e-mails and message boards I frequent, I've been given a lot to consider regarding the relationship between depression and reactions; though I'm not a doctor and I haven't put it all together yet I'd like to start listing it here. I'm not writing at my best, so you'll have to bear with me.
First, and foremost, it's depressing not to feel well. It's even more frustrating when you feel as if you go above and beyond to isolate yourself, to be "different" and still you end up getting sick. Why not give in, live cheap and easy? You're just going to get sick anyways.
This is an "in-your-head" type reaction, but it's human and a valid response. I'm past the isolation, mostly. While I miss the idea of restaurants, I don't miss eating out because I did make the connection that they "hurt" me. And I think that a daily grind would drain me, even if it didn't make me collapse. But it is depressing to spend twice as much on food than a "normal" variation and then have trouble keeping it down.
On the physical level, it's worth noting that the gut is responsible for the production of seratonin. Seratonin is a hormone that affects mood. Most antidepressants work by increasing seratonin levels in the body.
GI reactions cause inflammation in the lining of the gut. In the case of celiac disease, actual physical damage is caused when the immune system kicks in and attacks the lining of the small intestine. Theoretically, this damage could (and would) affect the production of seratonin. Lowered levels of seratonin=depression.
Also of note, researchers recently found that people who are under a lot of stress at the onslaught of a reaction typically have longer or re-curring symptoms which do not respond effectively to medication (antihistamines). These reactions may be caused by increased levels of cytokines like IL-6 or stress hormones called catecholamines. This study was limited to participants experiencing typical environmental allergies---runny nose, watery eyes etc. However, since mild food allergies are treated with anti-histamines as well, one would think the theory should cross into the realm of food allergies.
This supports the frustrating fact that I, at least, find myself reacting worst when it's least convenient. (Like I volunteered to do yard duty or drive the carpool.) The incidents when I end up berating myself because it must be in my head may actually be in my cytokines. :P
I found more discussion on the connection between allergies and depression in an article from Ron Hoggan, MA and James Braly MD here:
Then there is the theory put forth by Dr. Theron Randolph; that some food induced reactions can cause "brain allergy". Dr. Abram Hoffer reports that depression and allergy often co-exist in his patients.
Lastly, but not least, a GI reaction causes inflammation. This inflammation affects the functioning of the GI tract, possibly for a long time after the original antibodies have subsided. As I was one told...If you scrape your knee, it doesn't matter what kind of knee-socks you wear. The fabric rubbing over it is going to keep the scrape raw. And it's difficult to rest your digestive tract. And if you do choose to fast, there's a recovery period. And when you're already at least 10 pounds underweight, then your recovery period is going to be longer. The prospect is daunting and a long recovery period can be likened to chronic illness, the stress of long periods of not feeling well coupled with a sense of "when is this going to hit again" would take a toll on anyone.
So, there it is. I'm not lying in bed letting the depression overtake me, I'm reading and learning more. Now, if only the medical personnel weren't trained to look at all the symptoms, shrug and say with a confident, sympathetic smile..."Hon, I think you're just under too much stress."
Sure, stress is a piece of the puzzle. But it isn't the only one.
Now, for the actual blog entry. The reason I've decided to leave my earlier ramble up is so that I can refer back to it; also so that others who deal with reactions can possibly relate. Any kind of GI trouble is so socially taboo that it feels isolating, it's not something we talk about. And when we feel better; we try not to think about it. Don't know about you, but I try really hard not to relive moments of physical pain.
Through the e-mails and message boards I frequent, I've been given a lot to consider regarding the relationship between depression and reactions; though I'm not a doctor and I haven't put it all together yet I'd like to start listing it here. I'm not writing at my best, so you'll have to bear with me.
First, and foremost, it's depressing not to feel well. It's even more frustrating when you feel as if you go above and beyond to isolate yourself, to be "different" and still you end up getting sick. Why not give in, live cheap and easy? You're just going to get sick anyways.
This is an "in-your-head" type reaction, but it's human and a valid response. I'm past the isolation, mostly. While I miss the idea of restaurants, I don't miss eating out because I did make the connection that they "hurt" me. And I think that a daily grind would drain me, even if it didn't make me collapse. But it is depressing to spend twice as much on food than a "normal" variation and then have trouble keeping it down.
On the physical level, it's worth noting that the gut is responsible for the production of seratonin. Seratonin is a hormone that affects mood. Most antidepressants work by increasing seratonin levels in the body.
GI reactions cause inflammation in the lining of the gut. In the case of celiac disease, actual physical damage is caused when the immune system kicks in and attacks the lining of the small intestine. Theoretically, this damage could (and would) affect the production of seratonin. Lowered levels of seratonin=depression.
Also of note, researchers recently found that people who are under a lot of stress at the onslaught of a reaction typically have longer or re-curring symptoms which do not respond effectively to medication (antihistamines). These reactions may be caused by increased levels of cytokines like IL-6 or stress hormones called catecholamines. This study was limited to participants experiencing typical environmental allergies---runny nose, watery eyes etc. However, since mild food allergies are treated with anti-histamines as well, one would think the theory should cross into the realm of food allergies.
This supports the frustrating fact that I, at least, find myself reacting worst when it's least convenient. (Like I volunteered to do yard duty or drive the carpool.) The incidents when I end up berating myself because it must be in my head may actually be in my cytokines. :P
I found more discussion on the connection between allergies and depression in an article from Ron Hoggan, MA and James Braly MD here:
...celiac disease would probably be found in a relatively small, but significant percentage, of those afflicted. The prior two conditions of enzyme deficiency and intestinal permeability are abundantly found when sought, and it is these features which, we suspect, dominate the segment of the population which is chronically depressed.Enzyme deficiency would cause insufficient digestion of cereal grains, which then convert to morphine-like substances that can then pass through the permeable intestinal wall. Causing depression and other side effects.
Then there is the theory put forth by Dr. Theron Randolph; that some food induced reactions can cause "brain allergy". Dr. Abram Hoffer reports that depression and allergy often co-exist in his patients.
Lastly, but not least, a GI reaction causes inflammation. This inflammation affects the functioning of the GI tract, possibly for a long time after the original antibodies have subsided. As I was one told...If you scrape your knee, it doesn't matter what kind of knee-socks you wear. The fabric rubbing over it is going to keep the scrape raw. And it's difficult to rest your digestive tract. And if you do choose to fast, there's a recovery period. And when you're already at least 10 pounds underweight, then your recovery period is going to be longer. The prospect is daunting and a long recovery period can be likened to chronic illness, the stress of long periods of not feeling well coupled with a sense of "when is this going to hit again" would take a toll on anyone.
So, there it is. I'm not lying in bed letting the depression overtake me, I'm reading and learning more. Now, if only the medical personnel weren't trained to look at all the symptoms, shrug and say with a confident, sympathetic smile..."Hon, I think you're just under too much stress."
Sure, stress is a piece of the puzzle. But it isn't the only one.
Monday, December 22, 2008
It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...
Despite my aforementioned physical issues at the moment, I did want to include a happy post today.
It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas! Baking has rejoined our Christmas routine, and there is just something about my youngest helping me in the kitchen that makes things brighter. She takes great pleasure out of baking, and the stress involved is generally worth it.
Our latest creation is sugar cookies. We took a regular recipe, adapted it to suit our needs (with oil and rice flours), chilled it and broke out the cutting board and rolling pin. This was my first time using this rolling pin...bought brand new so that I could have the pleasure of baking again, but I haven't been motivated enough. (See, I'm not really depressed...)
I warned her in advance that new recipes don't usually come out that great the first time. That there would be some tweaking involved. That she should not dissolve into tears or throw anything if it wasn't working out the way she imagined. I shot my oldest a "look" and informed her that gluten cut out cookies are just as frustrating, the only difference being that "normal" flour has many more experimenters and is, well, a lot cheaper to fail with!
She huffed at me. My youngest opened her eyes very wide, nodded solemnly and promised not to get upset if we could only experiment. And we did!!!!
They're just as nummy as they look...even better; since they don't hurt my tummy and my husband claims they're better than regular sugar cookies. (With the caveat that he only eats regular sugar cookies because the snickerdoodles or oatmeal ones are gone.) We did lose a few angels to pan-sticking and other breakage...but I was very impressed and walking-on-air happy. You might need to try a few gluten free, er, "goodies" to fully appreciate the sensation.
Now, if only they'd lasted long enough to decorate with mini chocolate chips...Or, something else uncorny...
It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas! Baking has rejoined our Christmas routine, and there is just something about my youngest helping me in the kitchen that makes things brighter. She takes great pleasure out of baking, and the stress involved is generally worth it.
Our latest creation is sugar cookies. We took a regular recipe, adapted it to suit our needs (with oil and rice flours), chilled it and broke out the cutting board and rolling pin. This was my first time using this rolling pin...bought brand new so that I could have the pleasure of baking again, but I haven't been motivated enough. (See, I'm not really depressed...)
I warned her in advance that new recipes don't usually come out that great the first time. That there would be some tweaking involved. That she should not dissolve into tears or throw anything if it wasn't working out the way she imagined. I shot my oldest a "look" and informed her that gluten cut out cookies are just as frustrating, the only difference being that "normal" flour has many more experimenters and is, well, a lot cheaper to fail with!
She huffed at me. My youngest opened her eyes very wide, nodded solemnly and promised not to get upset if we could only experiment. And we did!!!!
They're just as nummy as they look...even better; since they don't hurt my tummy and my husband claims they're better than regular sugar cookies. (With the caveat that he only eats regular sugar cookies because the snickerdoodles or oatmeal ones are gone.) We did lose a few angels to pan-sticking and other breakage...but I was very impressed and walking-on-air happy. You might need to try a few gluten free, er, "goodies" to fully appreciate the sensation.Now, if only they'd lasted long enough to decorate with mini chocolate chips...Or, something else uncorny...
Depression, perhaps?
Although I've had this blog for some time, I don't think I've ever formally defined it's purpose.
I'm not sure anyone formally defines their blogs, so hopefully that isn't a problem!
Is it here to detail highlights of my life? To inform others of the trials of allergy free living? Perhaps it's an attempt to connect and say "you aren't alone" to strangers who are in their own "Can it really be just stress?" quandry. Or maybe it's a bit of everything. I know there are a few friends who follow faithfully, a few family members who drop by occassionally, and fellow allergy sufferers who pop by just to nod and agree...or shake their heads and say to themselves that they're glad they aren't THAT bad off. :P
I think today's post is directed at the latter.
I've been dealing with some sort of reaction for nearly a month now. I got a good dose of...something...just around Thanksgiving, vomiting and all that good stuff. It hit at a particularly poignant moment since I was dreading leaving the house and then conveniently ill.
Maybe it was stress?
But why hasn't it gone away? And why is it getting worse at moments when I want, very much, for it to get better?
I've found myself wondering which comes first, the reaction or depression. Because while it's much harder to deal with a reaction while depressed, the fact is that it's pretty depressing to feel like there's a shattered disco ball being used like a pin-ball machine in your abdomen, especially when the muscles are also feeling very sore and bruised. And then the chills set in, ironically I feel like it's a hundred degrees in here while my teeth are chattering loudly enough to accompany the CD player and I'm sweating. Ick.
The only difference between now and the days before I'd identified triggers are that I harbor hope. There's hope that I'll track the reaction down. I know what normal is, sort of. At least...I know this isn't it. And it isn't a constant tide of pain vs discomfort. There's bits of normalcy in there. There never used to be.
I'm hopeful, but I'm scared too. I don't want to deal with this on a regular basis. I don't like not knowing when it's going to hit. Whenever it DOES hit I get so skittish. I shun company, I hide out at home. I want to ignore the phone and the door and the call of the grocery store (It's not like I'm that hungry, after all.) I used to get the stomach flu, and it was a distant memory within the week.
Now, it's long and drawn out and there's very unnecessary weight loss involved...especially when it ISN'T the flu.
To be honest, the discomfort and embarrassing nature of this malady isn't the only thing I'm afraid of. I know I ought to slip into the doctor's office, recite my list of complaints along with their severity and wait for prognosis. And I know that it's not serious...I'm not even concerned that it might be serious. What scares me is the thought that there's nothing more to do.
I know I don't have something scary like Cancer. I'm lucky, very lucky! I also don't have something scary but treatable like diabetes. Again...I'm lucky. I can eat chocolate now and then! But the mystery digestive ailment that responds violently to comfort drugs and pops up mysteriously; tracked to triggers such as minute amounts of corn in the new tube of my usual toothpaste or helping the kids to decorate "real" gingerbread houses is getting to me. I wish I had something to say other than "I'm just not feeling well today," I feel so whiny. And I'm whining about whining which simply makes it worse!
At any rate, I go back to my checklist. Foods haven't changed drastically, or even that subtly. All the same ingredients, all the same brands, all the same labels (even on eggs). Maybe it isn't food. I'm more prone to reactions this time of year, usually tracked to a trigger but maybe I'm wrong? Maybe I'm crazy? (Wait, blind tests have proven there's SOMETHING physical occurring beyond the state of my psyche)
What about stress?
It's my official diagnosis, one I've been given countless times. Maybe I'm depressed, something I've considered as well.
The thing is, I'm more mad at my body than I am "stressed". And I feel too happy to really be "depressed", if that makes sense. I may not feel like going to a downtown museum and walking through the crowds of the Christmas displays but lying down and listening to my kids play with their nativity set makes me grin. And I enjoy the Christmas displays when there aren't elbows in my ribs and strangers feet tripping me. When I awaken beside a bedtime invader ("It's cold in my room!") I just lay and savor the weight of her body and the sound of her breathing. Candles burning in the menorah filled me with peace. I missed reading together when a child fell asleep before her bedtime book.
Would I feel that way if I were depressed?
The landlord stopped by unexpectedly, and caught me with the living room a mess and my baking unfinished. (At least the kids were dressed...) And I laughed, even at the gentle critique (Yes...my yard's a disaster, it's worse than the living room. It's cold out there for cleaning, though!). If stress were the issue, wouldn't that have tied my stomach in knots? Or wouldn't I lose my calm when I discover that there are beads, scissors and a flurry of paper snowflake-makings filling my now-recently vacuumed living room?
Okay, so I did think "why even bother"? But then the snowflakes made me smile. And if I were depressed, I wouldn't keep re-cleaning...would I?
I'm starting to wonder how many other allergy/digestive sufferers go through this process during a reaction. If you struggle with depression in conjunction with a reaction (but don't know if it's really depression) let me know I'm not alone! You can let me know if I'm crazy too...everyone else does :P And if you know of a good way to get through the emotional aspects of a reaction cycle, post that, too. It's the most frustrating part. Because sometimes it leads to not caring anymore. Whats the point if its not going to permanently cure me?
I know that eventually I'll be fine again. I know that it isn't just stress. I also know that it stresses me out, and that stress exacerbates things...so maybe it is stress to a degree. At any rate, I have to get better. I want to enjoy playing with the kids. We've got playgrounds to explore, and games to play, and recipes to adapt. Not to mention holidays to celebrate...
I'm not sure anyone formally defines their blogs, so hopefully that isn't a problem!
Is it here to detail highlights of my life? To inform others of the trials of allergy free living? Perhaps it's an attempt to connect and say "you aren't alone" to strangers who are in their own "Can it really be just stress?" quandry. Or maybe it's a bit of everything. I know there are a few friends who follow faithfully, a few family members who drop by occassionally, and fellow allergy sufferers who pop by just to nod and agree...or shake their heads and say to themselves that they're glad they aren't THAT bad off. :P
I think today's post is directed at the latter.
I've been dealing with some sort of reaction for nearly a month now. I got a good dose of...something...just around Thanksgiving, vomiting and all that good stuff. It hit at a particularly poignant moment since I was dreading leaving the house and then conveniently ill.
Maybe it was stress?
But why hasn't it gone away? And why is it getting worse at moments when I want, very much, for it to get better?
I've found myself wondering which comes first, the reaction or depression. Because while it's much harder to deal with a reaction while depressed, the fact is that it's pretty depressing to feel like there's a shattered disco ball being used like a pin-ball machine in your abdomen, especially when the muscles are also feeling very sore and bruised. And then the chills set in, ironically I feel like it's a hundred degrees in here while my teeth are chattering loudly enough to accompany the CD player and I'm sweating. Ick.
The only difference between now and the days before I'd identified triggers are that I harbor hope. There's hope that I'll track the reaction down. I know what normal is, sort of. At least...I know this isn't it. And it isn't a constant tide of pain vs discomfort. There's bits of normalcy in there. There never used to be.
I'm hopeful, but I'm scared too. I don't want to deal with this on a regular basis. I don't like not knowing when it's going to hit. Whenever it DOES hit I get so skittish. I shun company, I hide out at home. I want to ignore the phone and the door and the call of the grocery store (It's not like I'm that hungry, after all.) I used to get the stomach flu, and it was a distant memory within the week.
Now, it's long and drawn out and there's very unnecessary weight loss involved...especially when it ISN'T the flu.
To be honest, the discomfort and embarrassing nature of this malady isn't the only thing I'm afraid of. I know I ought to slip into the doctor's office, recite my list of complaints along with their severity and wait for prognosis. And I know that it's not serious...I'm not even concerned that it might be serious. What scares me is the thought that there's nothing more to do.
I know I don't have something scary like Cancer. I'm lucky, very lucky! I also don't have something scary but treatable like diabetes. Again...I'm lucky. I can eat chocolate now and then! But the mystery digestive ailment that responds violently to comfort drugs and pops up mysteriously; tracked to triggers such as minute amounts of corn in the new tube of my usual toothpaste or helping the kids to decorate "real" gingerbread houses is getting to me. I wish I had something to say other than "I'm just not feeling well today," I feel so whiny. And I'm whining about whining which simply makes it worse!
At any rate, I go back to my checklist. Foods haven't changed drastically, or even that subtly. All the same ingredients, all the same brands, all the same labels (even on eggs). Maybe it isn't food. I'm more prone to reactions this time of year, usually tracked to a trigger but maybe I'm wrong? Maybe I'm crazy? (Wait, blind tests have proven there's SOMETHING physical occurring beyond the state of my psyche)
What about stress?
It's my official diagnosis, one I've been given countless times. Maybe I'm depressed, something I've considered as well.
The thing is, I'm more mad at my body than I am "stressed". And I feel too happy to really be "depressed", if that makes sense. I may not feel like going to a downtown museum and walking through the crowds of the Christmas displays but lying down and listening to my kids play with their nativity set makes me grin. And I enjoy the Christmas displays when there aren't elbows in my ribs and strangers feet tripping me. When I awaken beside a bedtime invader ("It's cold in my room!") I just lay and savor the weight of her body and the sound of her breathing. Candles burning in the menorah filled me with peace. I missed reading together when a child fell asleep before her bedtime book.
Would I feel that way if I were depressed?
The landlord stopped by unexpectedly, and caught me with the living room a mess and my baking unfinished. (At least the kids were dressed...) And I laughed, even at the gentle critique (Yes...my yard's a disaster, it's worse than the living room. It's cold out there for cleaning, though!). If stress were the issue, wouldn't that have tied my stomach in knots? Or wouldn't I lose my calm when I discover that there are beads, scissors and a flurry of paper snowflake-makings filling my now-recently vacuumed living room?
Okay, so I did think "why even bother"? But then the snowflakes made me smile. And if I were depressed, I wouldn't keep re-cleaning...would I?
I'm starting to wonder how many other allergy/digestive sufferers go through this process during a reaction. If you struggle with depression in conjunction with a reaction (but don't know if it's really depression) let me know I'm not alone! You can let me know if I'm crazy too...everyone else does :P And if you know of a good way to get through the emotional aspects of a reaction cycle, post that, too. It's the most frustrating part. Because sometimes it leads to not caring anymore. Whats the point if its not going to permanently cure me?
I know that eventually I'll be fine again. I know that it isn't just stress. I also know that it stresses me out, and that stress exacerbates things...so maybe it is stress to a degree. At any rate, I have to get better. I want to enjoy playing with the kids. We've got playgrounds to explore, and games to play, and recipes to adapt. Not to mention holidays to celebrate...
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