At my last checkup, the one where the doctor says “You’re 40, let me stick my finger up your butt,” I received some disquieting news: Some of my lingering health complaints lined up with the symptoms of Gluten Intolerance. I have always thought of myself as a tolerant person, I love everyone of all races and creeds! And I also love to eat anything and everything! So my doctor suggested that I do some homework on Celiac disease, gluten intolerance, and food allergies and check in at my next check-up.
In ancient cultures, they would read the entrails of a slaughtered animal to look for signs of bad omens. My entrails give bad omens, and they’re still safely housed in my body: I poop a lot, and it’s usually runny. I also sleep poorly more often than not. I eat a ton and never gain weight. I have an aunt who was just diagnosed with gluten intolerance. These are a few of the signs of gluten intolerance. So, I thought “How hard can it be to cut gluten out of my diet to see if I’m intolerant?”
Apparently, it’s impossible when you’re working on a cruise ship. Everything is battered in flour, even the raw vegetables. Nonetheless, because I’m obsessed with the thought of gluten now, I’ve cut out all the apparent sources of gluten (bread, crackers, breaded things, delicious croissants fresh from the oven with melty butter on them) and the sneaky sources (soy sauce, beer, liquor, fun) although I can’t quite cut out the ‘probably tainted’ sources (meats probably dusted with flour, rice, oats.) It will be easier when I’m off the ship to really dig into a restricted diet – meanwhile, I’ve made adjustments where I can.
And then every few days (usually the day we’re in New York), I cheat and eat a slice of pizza. I know it screws up my scientific testing, but I could die tomorrow and I’ll be damned if I die with nothing more than a quinoa cracker digesting in my gut! (Speaking of which, I have tried several Gluten Free foods, including crackers made from Quinoa and Flax Seed. They taste like a real cracker that has been burnt and stripped of any flavor. I eat them to punish myself for wanting to snack.)
I have noticed I’m pooping less. I’m sleeping maybe a bit better. Still, I don’t feel as though I’ve found the silver bullet; I could have a completely different food allergy altogether; or I may be ingesting buckets of wheat gluten in hidden forms on the ship. While I certainly have a new understanding of what people with severe food allergies must go through, I’m hoping that I resolve my minor complaints and that it has nothing to do with gluten: It’s a big lifestyle change and makes you a pain in the ass at every dinner party for the rest of your life. Still, there’s something exciting and sexy about a drastic food allergy – the way it allows you to draw attention to yourself every few minutes in a restaurant. “Can you make this dish without soy sauce? Is your ice cream organic – does it have cookie dough in it? Did I mention to everybody at this meal that I CANNOT EAT GLUTEN? DOES EVERYBODY KNOW HOW SPECIAL I AM? No, lady, I cannot move my chair so you can get your Wheelchair to the bathroom, I have a GLUTEN ALLERGY!”
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