Off and Running

As I mentioned in my last post, May is Celiac Awareness Month and to see first-hand the challenges that my son, Cam, faces every day, I decided to go gluten-free for the month. Not only am I doing this to help him feel less isolated, I wanted to see how it affected me. Our house is probably 80% gluten-free anyway so I was curious to see if a complete absence of gluten made me feel any different.

So, on May 1, I went gluten-free. I weighed in that Friday morning at 193 pounds (this morning I was 191 but I attribute that to a little dehydration and typical weight fluctuation). I have to say, the first weekend of being gluten-free went great. Now, I need to be honest and admit that I was around a group of people that entire weekend who all follow a gluten-free diet so I had an advantage. We had many arranged and catered meals so the options were bountiful and allowed me to “ease” into my transition.

So, I was off and running. And when I say that, I mean it…literally. Ok, this may be TMI, but after three or four days on the diet, I started to get stomach issues. Bloating, discomfort, worse things. The thought crossed my mind that maybe eliminating gluten from my diet had set off some kind of odd, digestive chain-reaction with me on the complete opposite end of the spectrum than my son. I was the yin to his yang. Gluten made him sick, the lack of gluten made me sick. On my 3rd day of experiencing my “issues”, I began to wonder the validity of my thought. Turns out that I probably just had a stomach bug as the symptoms subsided and the remainder of week one went smoothly without further searching of “does my body require gluten” on Google.

As I pass day 8 of my journey, I feel good. I can’t say for certain or not that I feel any different than what I usually do but I certainly don’t feel worse. What has happened is that I have developed a new found appreciation for what Cam and millions of others who have to follow a gluten-free diet need to do to stay healthy. “Grabbing a quick lunch” is difficult. Eating at restaurants bring more of challenge. Instances such as almost reaching over and grabbing the remainder of a hamburger off of my daughter’s plate, resisting the temptation of taking a bite-size donut from the container that was sitting on my softball team’s bench, and not licking the beater of a Mother’s Day cake all require a good amount of discipline and extra thinking. Knowing that these are situations that my son faces every day and realizing that he is making these disciplinary decisions on his own makes me even more proud of him than ever. I’m 41 and I find myself cringing at the thought of eating another sandwich on a gluten-free bun after choosing to do this for a week. He’s 14 (in a couple of days) and he doesn’t voice any complaints when I pack him his 187th lunch of the school year because he has no other options and his body gives him no choice.

It’s humbling watching your kid exhibit intestinal fortitude at a level greater than you. It’s also extremely motivating. When that calendar flips in three weeks and Celiac Awareness Month is gone for another year, I may go back to my regular diet but I won’t stop in my advocacy for him. For what he does, it’s the least that I can do.

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