I blog gluten-free

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Just Call Me Julius

33 hours of 48 hour EEG done... and portable machine running at 52% battery power. With only a pounding headache and about 9 Exedrines running through my system. So I had a big "event" or two... but... I've been managing.

Having one of those delightful moments... the so-called- "Ok, Buy me a muffin" moment.
Years and years ago, I used to love the berry blast muffins at Tim Hortons... blackberries, raspberries and blueberries all soft and sweet and melted in the soft baseball-sized muffin, with some candied orange in the very top... yeah... and I trained myself to avoid them and just buy a cup of coffee and a yogurt (or turkey/rice soup if they have it) when I go in. I can do it without looking and inwardly licking my chops and salivating. Or inwardly tearing up.

Ok, once again, the process of "When I Eat Gluten" ... 1) Blood sugar drops. 2)Here comes the crank! 3)Headache that feels like Uncle Screwtape is communicating to Wormwood via drum circle. 4)heart burn. 5)Belly ache 6)I'm sorry, do you mind if I throw up in your lap? 7) Camping out in bathroom. Pleasant. Of course I don't need a gluten-free diet! How course of me, who apparently is named Julius and rewrites calendars, controls clocks and minds, and has health issues simply so I can be as inconvenient as possible! How dare I not know that illness is all in the mind?

Look, dude... I don't tell you to see a psychiatrist when I think you're insane. (I inwardly wonder if I should offer a Midol sometimes.) Who the fuck do you think you are?

Ok, point being. If I cheat on my diet, as it were, I don't run the risk of gaining weight. I run the risk of damaging my intestines, stomach, and kidney and of needing surgery on my bladder, which also healed post celiac diagnosis (via bloods etc and via endoscopy.) when I began my GF diet. While getting my calories is tough... the last thing I'm going to do is eat something that will cause me to chuck it back up again, or cause emotional issues en route to my chucking up. There's something I say when people offer bad advice, that could hurt me: "Thank you for your input", and inside "Thanks for the help. But if you must waste $3.00 I'd be delighted to enjoy "normal people food". And to aim it in your general direction."

Thank you. I know you mean well. And this isn't easily understandable. It's not easy. But I'm actually trying. The help I need should not cause me scarring, illness, or possibly death. It should improve my quality of life.

I am not going to apologize for being inconvenient. I have not been healthy. I did not get sick so people could "help me"- indeed, I enjoy not asking for help as much as possible. It's a sin and a crime to me, to say "help me"... if I can do plumbing, and learn to live in lean times, with stress all around, and be content, I can do anything... I cannot control minds,I am not Julius Caesar or Pope Gregory XIII nor am I capable of rewriting calendars. I can however, work on me.

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