
Get that poison away from me!
December was kind of a rough month. It is usually my favorite month of the year with the joy of Christmas swelling through every moment, and various birthday celebrations, including my own. However, on the day before my 25th birthday it happened.
I got glutened.
Before being diagnosed with Celiac Disease, I ate a diet rich in whole grains, including a lot of wheat based products. I had quite the tolerance built up, and was made greatly aware of that on December 18th, marking nearly 4 months of being gluten free.
It was a Sunday morning, and as my husband and I were running late for church. If you know us, you know that running late is kind of our hobby. We had a nice breakfast (completely gluten free), and we took our daily multivitamins. I also had a container of calcium chews that I had been taking, but had not touched in a few weeks, basically just due to absentmindedness and the abovementioned, always running late. So I grabbed one – figured I could use a little extra calcium that day.
Wrong decision.
You see, I had recently discovered that I was highly sensitive to caramel coloring (a controversial trigger for Celiacs.) I had got some lotion, used it, broke out in a nasty rash, and determined that the caramel coloring was the culprit. I don’t eat hardly anything else that would contain caramel coloring, so I had not ran into it in my food yet.
“Yet” being the key word.
I remember eating that calcium chew and having a hard time swallowing it. As if my body was telling me…”Don’t do it, Joia. You will regret it.” But alas, I swallowed it, went on about my morning and did not give it a second thought.
Until a little later.
We had just finished singing some wonderful Christmas carols, and our pastor had just stepped on stage when it happened. I felt as if the whole room was spinning, and had the weight of nausea pressing down on my stomach. A bug? No one I had been around had been sick, but who knew. After the service was over, I told Vince that I needed to lay down as soon as we got home.
I did. I fell into a deep sleep for three hours. Woke up, and began a violent reaction to the poison that had entered my digestive system.
A lot of Celiacs refer to the reaction as the “Big D,” (use your imagination, and I am sure you can figure out what that means.) I got that, along with an entire evening and night of throwing up. Vince and I had his company party that night. I got up, got dressed, miraculously did my hair, and then intermittently went to the bathroom in between conversations with his coworkers. It was a rough night.
That was not the end of it.
I spent my birthday feeling weak and fragile. I spent the next week feeling exhausted and wary of food. I spent the next month dealing with the lasting ramifications. Acne breakouts, hormonal break downs, mixed with random intestinal cramping.
All from something that had the littlest, most minuscule, should not even count, amount of gluten in it.
I am back on track now, but have never looked at wheat with the same disgust and hatred as I do now. Which is surprisingly an answer to prayer, as in the beginning it was very difficult to give up so many things that I loved so dearly, that I prayed that God would give me the strength, wisdom, and distaste for anything that could possibly make me sick so that I would never miss it.
I hope to never again been accidentally glutened in my life! Get away from me poison!


