Last week I had some blood work done regarding my weird stomach issues. They told me when I left that no news was good news. If I didn't hear from them, everything was fine. So a week has passed and I felt confident that I was in the clear.
And then my doctor called today. She told me that all of my levels looked normal except for one. The Celiac's marker. Two of the three markers came back positive. Of course, I was all like, "That's okay, right? It's not 3 out of 3, right?" And, of course, she was all like, "No. Two out of three means you have it. Definitely."
I almost started to cry. But then I regained some perspective in knowing that it's not cancer or a death sentence, and whining and crying about it is just plain silly. But it is a bit of a big deal for me. I love gluten. Pasta, cakes, desserts, cereal, beer, beer, BEER! The idea of giving it all up is a little heartbreaking. Thankfully I know people who've been living gluten free for a while, so I can turn to them for support and advice, but no gluten is kinda freakin' me out.
The doctor told me that I could see a specialist right away (where they will endoscope my insides and take samples which isn't appealing at all) or do an elimination diet for a few weeks. If eliminating gluten makes all the difference, then I can visit a nutritionist for further guidance. If the diet doesn't help, then a specialist is needed because something else may be going on.
So, dinner tonight -- a heaping bowl of pasta and a chicken breast (BEFORE I got the dreaded phone call) -- was my last meal. No more tasty pasta for me. Sad face. Thankfully I can still enjoy rice and potatoes. Getting rid of those would throw me over the edge!
And, in a moment of fortuitous planning, we ordered a half dozen gluten-free cupcakes for the wedding. Now we may be upping that number. And there are gluten-free options at the dinner as well, so that's good, too, right?
So, today, the saddest food day of my life, I start a new adventure in eating. I'm not sure how I'm feeling about it yet.