For most of my adult life, I experienced mild and easily ignored symptoms of gastrointestinal distress. I had occasional bouts of acid reflux, which prompted me to start taking nightly acid reducers around 1997. I also had occasional stomach bloating and diarrhea, but nothing out of the ordinary. However, I noticed that my memory was gradually deteriorating, which I attributed to the natural effects of aging and increased busyness.
In late 2007, I began experiencing frequent respiratory illnesses. Minor colds would escalate into more severe cases, and I soon found myself battling bronchitis and major sinus infections several times a year. Year after year, I became increasingly fatigued and unwell. My condition worsened to the point where I would fall ill every other month. Antibiotics and steroids became a regular part of my medical routine.
In mid-2010, my condition reached a critical point, resulting in a minor infection of the brain. The discovery of this infection was made through a CAT scan, which was ordered due to my vision problems. I would wake up in the morning, and my vision would return after 15 minutes. However, I would also experience blindness when lying down for an extended period.
This was after years of severe and debilitating sickness that went beyond the usual respiratory infections. Despite numerous doctors, expensive tests, and no one finding a cause, they kept saying, “We can’t find anything wrong…” and sent me off with new prescriptions to mask my symptoms.
As my condition worsened, my energy levels dropped, and I turned to comfort foods. Bread, cheese, pasta, cake, chips, and cookies were my go-to choices. Little did I realize at the time that I was inadvertently perpetuating the vicious cycle.
After three years of regular doses of antibiotics and Prednisone (including Black Box drugs like Levoquin), I hoped surgery would help. It stabilized my issues but didn’t resolve them. Doctors diagnosed me with various conditions, including Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), stress, fibromyalgia, depression, and Colitis. They prescribed a wide range of medications to manage the growing list of symptoms. I consulted about a half dozen different primary care, allergy, GI, Urology, and Cardiology doctors. Despite their efforts, no one could pinpoint the root cause of my distress, but they certainly enjoyed prescribing medications. They kept adding more and more until I was taking several different medications. However, it seemed they were more interested in treating the symptoms rather than addressing the underlying issue.
So, I kept searching for my own solutions. I consulted a reputable nutritionist. During my initial visit, as I began sharing my medical history, she was furiously writing in her chart, completely ignoring me, until I mentioned “gluten intolerance.” She paused writing, looked up at me, and closed her chart. She listened for a moment longer before stating that she believes I have gluten intolerance. Consequently, on April 21, I was instructed to attempt a gluten-free diet. On May 18, I realized that I wasn’t following the diet correctly and suggested that I focus more on my efforts.
When I decided to give up gluten that rainy morning in April, I almost burst into tears in the kitchen. Partly, I believed that this was the root cause of my illness and that I could soon recover. Partly, I feared that if this “gluten issue” were indeed the problem, I would never be able to enjoy my favorite foods, such as bread, pasta, and cake, again.
Despite these fears, I persevered and decided to give it a try. I had limited research and no planning before embarking on my gluten-free diet (a significant mistake!). I jumped into the deep end and went cold turkey. And let me tell you, the first three days were incredibly challenging. I believe it was the withdrawal from gluten that caused these difficulties, but during those initial days, I felt much worse: migraines, aches, sweats, and mental confusion. The pain under my arms was so intense that I convinced myself I had some severe lymph node disease, or even worse!
And then, on day 4, I began to feel slightly better, just a bit. On day 5, the aches began to ease slightly. Within two weeks, I felt incredibly better! For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t weak, shaky, and exhausted (no more than an active mom to a five-year-old would be). There were no gastrointestinal issues. I could tell you some stories that would make you want to vomit! Pun intended. There were no extreme mood swings, no sudden anger, and no overwhelming anxiety (I used to lie awake at night, unable to sleep, constantly thinking, “Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong!”). Within a day of going gluten-free, my mind felt calm, and things seemed… okay, reasonable, and maybe even a little positive… for the first time in a long, LONG time.
I think I’m losing weight, but I haven’t weighed myself since April. Before that, I was 292 pounds. I’m not sure when I’ll weigh myself next most likely after Grandma’s Marathon. Who knew that simply not doing something could make you feel better? By avoiding gluten, I’m feeling better than I have in years. By merely eating what my body craves and consciously avoiding what my body rejects, I achieved something that no amount of medication could: I made myself truly well.
I’ve been seeing a nutritionist regularly, which should be helpful. Initially skeptical due to negative experiences with other doctors who dismissed food as a root cause, I was impressed by her attentiveness during my first appointment. She listened for nearly three hours, understood my concerns, recognized symptoms, and provided valuable insights. I likely have had this condition for my entire life, but it has worsened since pregnancy. I should’ve never taken the acid-reducing medication. The acid reflux was likely caused by my body’s intolerance to certain foods. Taking the medication masked the problem, allowing it to escalate. I’ll wait and see what the next few months bring. Stay tuned!
I also visited my son in Colorado. We had a lot of disagreements, and at one point, he threatened suicide. It’s concerning that a 24-year-old who is very successful would have such thoughts. As a father, there’s nothing worse than the fear of having raised a less-than-positive son. I worry so much!
On a positive note, my work situation has improved. I’m now working about 50 hours a week, which has been beneficial.
It is time to sign off, but I hope things improve!!!
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