Just have to laugh...before I start to cry

My whole life, I've been healthy, active, and except occasional knee pain, I have been able to be pretty active with sports, rock climbing, biking, hiking...in the past.

There was a point while on my mission where my body simply shut down. I got heat stroke one day and never seemed to recover. I saw a few doctors in Switzerland and they both told me I was just depressed and needed to take medication. I adamantly disagreed. I was frustrated with being tired, I couldn't do anything because I was so tired not because I didn't want to. I almost came home, but then I seemed to start getting back some energy, so I stayed. Thus began, I believe, my journey into the world of an autoimmune disease.

The years since then, some have been better than others, but I've been plagued with chronic fatigue, made worse with exercise. Yeah, that doesn't work well when you want to loose baby weight :) The last few years, other physical ailments have surfaced. I was telling my doctor a few weeks ago, My body is just falling apart! And seemingly random problems were presenting themselves, and we couldn't figure out why...because we were looking at them and dealing with them as individual problems (fatigue, achy joints, abdominal pain, numbness in hands/feet, stomach pain, vertigo, rashes...).

So, after about 6 months of stomach/abdominal pain, I go to the doc and he's trying to decided between gallstones or an ulcer. He's leaning toward an ulcer, so he wants me to have a scope done of my stomach. The scope doesn't show an ulcer, but there are lots of red areas on my small intestines so he biopsied them. Ok, so I need to wait for that, but once again, I have a problem that has no solution. Whatever. Now, I'm really getting frustrated, and probably depressed, because I know I'm not crazy! Something is not right with my body and modern medicine is not helping! (yes, I realize that statement can open a whole other conversation, but I'm not ready for that just yet).

So, when I woke up the other day with swollen and sore joints in my hands (my hands and feet feel like they're on fire!), I about lost it! Well, I kind of did. I called my Mom to vent and cry and she basically said, you may never get a diagnosis, but that doesn't mean nothing's wrong. You will just have to know that you have limitations and deal with one day at a time. Fine, but I'm still calling the doctor.

Turns out, the little biopsies the GI doc took, came back positive for Celiac disease, an autoimmune disease (thankyouverymuch to my European and Scandinavian heritage). All of my problems over the years have all been symptoms of this disease, vague by themselves but together, along with the biopsy, make for a pretty convincing diagnosis.

So, now, with this diagnosis, I'm overwhelmed and still in mourning for wheat (cream of wheat with brown sugar and toast is my most favorite breakfast ever!). I can't even just take medicine for it to go away. I have to alter my complete diet and make a drastic lifestyle change! And yes, allow me this selfish moment to say "have to." I'm mourning here, can't you see?? I'm sure I'll get to the "get to" stage eventually...Sigh...

Then, last night, as I'm wallowing in self-pitty, I had a lovely visit from one of my visiting teachers. She brought me...wait for it!...

A fresh from the oven loaf of homemade wheat bread :)

Yes, I chuckled, then, after she left I had a piece with butter...one more day wont kill me. I can't even think right now about my pantry full of gluten...oi vey!