I’m done. I’m checking out. I’ve reached my limit.
I don’t want celiac disease anymore.
I don’t want to worry about every morsel of food that goes into my body.
I don’t want the attention garnered on me at parties and dinners.
I don’t want to talk about “gluten”.
I don’t want to have a stomach ache be my constant companion.
I don’t want the accompanying guilt of not feeling well much too often.
I simply don’t want this anymore.
It’s one thing to put up with all the sh*t celiac brings if we could just stay healthy.
And I’ve been going thru a pretty dang healthy stretch ever since I went mostly paleo.
But it’s a landmine out there and you just never know when you’re gonna get hit.
And yes…I’ve been hit.
This time, it seems to be messing with me neurologically more than anything else.
Case in point: I was with a great friend yesterday whose house I’ve been to plenty of times. We were talking about basements and I asked him if he had a finished basement. He looked at me like I had three heads. Why? Because I’ve been in his basement a number of times; but for some reason I just couldn’t make the connection. I was embarrassed and even a bit frightened.
I’m totally crawling out of my skin. I just want to get away and go somewhere where none of this matters. Where life is easy again (if it ever was).
But I know I can’t escape.
Look…I know celiac disease is not the worst thing in the world. I sincerely try to keep it all in perspective.
I have a blessed life. A wife to die for. Kids to be so proud of. Good friends. I work for myself.
Life truly is great.
And tomorrow is another day and I will bounce back as we ALL do.
But for today…I simply don’t want this disease anymore.