Oh Hey, I’m in Cosmo

I recently did an interview with Cosmo about food allergies. No, it’s not a list of 37 food allergies to try in bed, though that sounds…interesting.

Check it out here: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/health-fitness/interviews/a38421/what-its-like-to-be-allergic-to-almost-every-food/

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Food Challenge Round 46: Cindy vs Lettuce

So I may have skipped the recaps of a few challenges. Not for any particular reason, probably. Just life, and a bunch were repeats. So here’s a quick recap before we get to the shining star moment that has changed my life and one of my ice breaker “fun facts” hopefully forever!

Since Xolair, and post spinach and lox, I’ve challenged sesame, hummus, pickles (cucumbers + dill), and cooked blueberries to great success. I also challenged raw broccoli to a lack of success, but I didn’t get sick, either — just had that feeling where my body said “stop” and my doctor looked at the way I was contorting my face and said “stop” so I stopped and went home sad because I’d been literally dreaming about eating broccoli. But all’s well, because I can still challenge it cooked at some point.

So then, today. We’re about a year into Xolair, which is crazy! I decided to challenge romaine lettuce, because Passover is coming, and it’s been really painful for me to not be able to participate in the ritual in which romaine lettuce (known as maror) is consumed in memory of the Hebrew slaves’ bitter lives in Egypt. Fine, so it’s not the most fun ritual in all of Judaism, but there’s something about being excluded from a religious practice that’s hurtful. It’s hard to describe if you haven’t felt it before. It’s not that I will “get in trouble with God” if I don’t eat maror — quite the opposite — but it feels strange to watch other people do this thing, this important thing designed to build on a connected tradition, and know that doing so can kill you. That this avenue is not an avenue you can take to connect. So I wanted to at least give romaine a try before Passover in the hopes that this year, I can partake in the ritual for the first time in years, and for the first time ever without getting sick.

And, drumroll…I can! And to quote the amazing Gina Rodriguez of Jane the Virgin fame, I can and I will!

Much like with spinach, I began the challenge by turning over a lettuce leaf in my fingers. Feeling its curves. Experiencing its texture. Finally, after singing comforting songs to myself to eradicate my fear of lettuce, I ate it. Six leaves worth. It was delicious! I could literally feel the nutrients I have been deprived of for so long coursing through my body. If that sounds ridiculous, it’s because it is. And I don’t much care, because it’s how I felt. I feel healthy and vibrant and peppy and I cannot wait to eat more lettuce.

I’m limited to six leaves at a time, three times a week, because Xolair is a miracle drug but not a cure. But that’s fine. Six leaves of lettuce, five leaves of spinach, and some tomatoes, peppers, and dressing? That’s a side salad if I ever heard of one.

I’m going to eat salad. Salad that isn’t driven by corn.

WHAT?

I am in complete disbelief, still. But a thrilled disbelief.

For so long, I’ve been introduced to people as Cindy, the girl who can’t eat lettuce. We can leave the emotional baggage of that for another time, but for now…I’m excited to see which random identifying factor people choose now.

Cindy, the girl who lived (after eating lettuce, not after a curse from Voldemort #spoileralert #sorrynotsorry).

POST-XOLAIR FOOD CHALLENGE TALLY

Cindy: 7

Allergens: 2 (but it was more of a draw)

Up Next: Cottonseed oil

There is lettuce in my hand. And no hives on my chest. This, my friends, is the magic of Xolair.

There is lettuce in my hand. And no hives on my chest. This, my friends, is the magic of Xolair.

Xolair Round One: Complete (And the Story of How I Was Once Spider-Man)

Four months ago, I started this treatment called Xolair, that in theory will help mitigate my allergies. You can catch up on the first time here. But the short version is, I get an injection once a month and after four months, I challenge something I know I’m allergic to and see if I survive. Since one of the risks of Xolair is anaphylaxis, my doctor also has me taking steroids for a week out of the month to prevent anaphylaxis on the day of.

If you’ve noticed that this blog hasn’t been updated much in the last few months, it’s because I haven’t really known what to say. This treatment has put my normal food challenges on semi-hold (finding time between steroids and travel to challenge a food properly has been interesting, and yielded only one challenge: a fourth tsp of peanut butter which went perfectly well). It’s also put my feelings about food allergies into this weird state of confusion. Like, this might be the end of them. THIS MIGHT BE THE END OF THEM. What does that even mean? What does that even look like?  I can’t fathom it, and every time I think too much about it, I get scared that THIS MIGHT NOT BE THE END OF THEM. And I know what that looks like, and I can handle what that looks like, but damn, what a let down that’d be.

However, on this, the day of my last shot before the big challenge, I feel compelled to write. If only to organize my thoughts. Though, with the steroids fucking with me the way they are, I’m not promising much organization.

1. I LOVE how many movies I’ve seen in the doctor’s office. Good Will Hunting, Stand By Me, Mystic River, Dazed and Confused, and Pulp Fiction. I saw Pulp Fiction today and I just never want to do anything else. Movies are good! I want the Xolair to work so that I’m forced to see the rest of the amazing movies I’ve somehow missed (somehow = being too much of a “too cool for school” indie kid who preferred TV and things no one ever heard of, with a soft spot for romcoms).

2. Steroids are fucking weird. My reactions to them are wholly inconsistent. Sometimes I’m awake for days. Sometimes I fall asleep crazy early and wake up every hour exhausted. Sometimes I sleep just fine but have so many thoughts I don’t know which are real and which aren’t. Sometimes my legs hurt so badly I can’t sit normally. Sometimes (today) I giggle so hard I cry at literally nothing. Sometimes I yell at everyone around me about things that are irrelevant. Sometimes, all of the above. Sometimes, none of the above. Every day is different, and especially every month is different. Imagine PMS but more unpredictable. So maybe pregnancy? But the end result isn’t a baby, it’s just sobriety. Anyway, I’m extremely grateful to my family and friends who put up with all of the yoyo-ing, and especially who tell me which of my reactions are me and which are Steroid Cindy. Steroid Cindy is fun in doses (ha, doses!) but she isn’t real Cindy, and thanks to everyone who gets that and helps me get that.

3. I’m eating spinach on July 9. SPINACH. Here’s my relationship with spinach thus far in my life:

As a child, I knew spinach was something Popeye ate but I didn’t.

I would often pick up spinach calzones for my sisters from the local pizza store. Sometimes, they’d give us broccoli ones instead and those were not good. I was never particularly good at picking up the calzones because I couldn’t tell the difference between spinach and broccoli. Both were green things I didn’t eat that smelled funny.

I tried spinach at some point in my preteen years. I ate it cooked, but never raw. I HATED it. I hated it because it would make everything dark and angry, and I’d always feel the need to fall asleep, sometimes clutching my stomach. I assumed that this was a perfectly normal reaction to spinach so I never said anything. I’d read in books that spinach was a food kids didn’t like, so I assumed the reason was because it was dark, angry, narcolepsy-inducing, and hurtful to stomachs. Why should I have been different from all other kids? So I ate my spinach like I was told, and secretly took naps, and that was that. Until one day I threw a temper tantrum about not wanting to fall asleep, and my mother, who knew that spinach isn’t supposed to just knock you out, told me I was describing allergic reactions and that I should not eat it again.

I started experiencing airborne symptoms to all leafy greens around the time I was 15. I believe (and there’s some research on this) that the stench of 9/11 and the pollution that followed increased my allergic symptoms. I am grateful that of all the losses I could have experienced that day, I only lost the ability to be in the same room as salad.

During my sophomore year of college (so 2006 I think?) I had a doctor’s appointment to check out a sprained ankle. I took the train into Boston, got an aircast at the doctor, ate lunch at this great little restaurant downtown while reading a book — god I miss dining out alone sometimes — and noticed that my eggplant sandwich had a spinach leaf in it. Having not had spinach for years, I figured, no time like the present for an impromptu food challenge! (Though I didn’t know the term then). Anyway, after a few minutes, I realized I was getting sick. I was naive and didn’t carry Benedryl on me, so I did what anyone would do — I left the restaurant and got on the train heading to my next destination. The Park Street station never seemed so big. I remember stumbling through the station, gasping for air, and finally making it on the train, completely exhausted from walking and breathing simultaneously. I hopped out of the train at Copley, and called my best friend T from a CVS. I figured she should know I was sick, because you know, calling the person who’s in Ithaca and not Boston is totally logical in an emergency. But really, T is super smart, and encouraged me to buy the Benedryl even though I had to take an escalator up to the second floor of the CVS to buy it, and to buy a bottle of water, too. She told me to take the pill in line before I paid, and not think about stealing. The line was SO LONG. She said that no one wanted me to die in line and that it’s not like I wasn’t eventually going to pay when it was my turn. So, anyway, I took the pills and went to the commuter rail station, where I found the train pulling away as I approached the platform. With a sprained ankle and high on the Benedryl — not to mention woozy from the reaction — I grabbed hold of the conductor’s outstretched arm and jumped onto a moving train. I WAS SPIDER-MAN! Then, I slept on the train. That was the last time I ate spinach. So you can see why I’m scared to eat some now…

The good news is (okay, I’m starting to think I needed to have blogged in these interim months!) is that I’ve noticed a change. I was thisclose to horseradish while grocery shopping after round two and NOTHING happened. In fact, the reason I was so close was because I was able to get close to horseradish without noticing, whereas I usually get dizzy as soon as it’s nearby and then locate it to confirm the dizziness. I wasn’t dizzy, looked for the horseradish and it wasn’t in my eyeline, and wound up leaning over the bin like a regular person while picking out a suitable eggplant. I also was around salad and fish numerous times — sometimes even while eating — and was fine. So this drug might be worth it’s salt. (Literally. The steroids make me crave salt like the opposite of an open wound [A closed wound? This metaphor makes no sense..]).

As a closing thought: the song of the day, per my coworker who heard I’d finished my first round of shots:

 

Gluten Sensitivity — Not A Real Thing?

So, I already talked about how I hate getting asked if I’m gluten free…but something I didn’t touch on was how irritated I get when people with no medical issues treat their fad diets like medical issues.

I am NOT talking about people with celiac disease. That’s a real medical issue, and having watched my friends with celiac eat gluten, I can tell you, it’s serious.

It’s precisely because of how serious things like celiac and food allergies are that this latest “I feel so much better without gluten” craze pisses me off. Since “going gluten-free” is now a fad diet, people who actually will get seriously ill when exposed to gluten are in EVEN MORE danger. Or, people who are not in any danger from gluten, but are in danger from other things, are thrust into this confusing world that puts our lives at risk.

A few examples of what I’m talking about:

1. When I was in college, I had to see the nutritionist to figure out how to eat in the cafeteria because I was constantly getting sick. The following dialogue ensued:

Cindy: I don’t think I am getting enough vegetables in my diet, because I’m getting sick from vegetables I’m not allergic to from cross contamination.

Nutritionist: Oh, of course you are. The kitchen uses leftovers from one dish and repurposes it the next day. I have a solution. I get a lot of people gluten free pasta.

Cindy: Oh, but I don’t need gluten-free pasta. I can eat regular pasta.

Nutritionist: What about salads? That’s a really good option for gluten-free students.

Cindy: I’m allergic to leafy greens. What are other ways I can eat more vegetables? I can eat tomatoes, peppers, zuchinni — is there a way the kitchen can prepare those without cross contamination?

Nutritonist: You know, I have found that a lot of the students I work with really enjoy this chicken parmigiana dish. It’s great, and we can make it gluten free,  And with a side salad. And that’s a nutritional meal.

Cindy: I keep kosher, and can’t have salad, so I just want to talk about eating more vegetables.

Nutritionist: If you’re not going to need the gluten free pasta, I don’t really know how I can help you. The salad bar has a lot of choices.

And so on…

2. A former colleague decided to try to go gluten-free. I asked him why, and was particularly interested because he was completely insensitive to my food allergies. By that, I mean, he would leave food on my desk, touch my tupperwares while I was eating with his salad hands, have meetings with me while he was eating salad he knew I was airborne allergic to…he was less malicious (I hope) than he was misinformed. And partly because I don’t think he understood the difference between real food issues and diets like his. For instance:

Cindy: Why are you going gluten-free? Have you noticed yourself getting sick?

Colleague: My sister doesn’t eat gluten, her doctor told her not to.

Cindy: But she gets sick, presumably. Do you?

Colleague: I might, how would I know?

Cindy: Do you feel weak? Do you poop more often than normal?

Colleague: No. But gluten is bad for you. Let’s google it. [He does]. See, it says here that whole wheat is better for you than white flour.

Cindy: That’s true, but both have gluten.

Colleague: No, whole wheat is better for you than white flour.

Cindy: Everyone knows that. But whole wheat has gluten.

Colleague: See, it says whole grains in general are much healthier. So I should go gluten-free. You think you know everything about food.

Cindy: I know a lot about food, because I have to think about it constantly. I bake and cook and know all about ingredients because food can kill me. Whole wheat and white flour have gluten. Gluten is a protein found in wheat, rye and barley, and cross contaminated into most oats. It’s in whole grains as much as in non-whole grains.

Colleague: Are you sure? I don’t think so.

Anyway, he decided to go gluten-free for a week. At the end of the week, another colleague asked how it was going.

Colleague who eats gluten: How’s the gluten thing going?

Colleague from above: You know, I haven’t lost weight. I’m eating salads without croutons, but by the end of the day, I’m so hungry, I’ve been eating a bag of pita chips after dinner.

Cindy: So you’re eating gluten.

Colleague from above: I guess so? I mean, it’s hard to just eat salad.

Cindy: There are things you can eat that are gluten-free that aren’t salad.

Colleague: I don’t know, I don’t think so. I haven’t lost any weight at all this week.

His misunderstanding of how food worked may not have impacted me in that moment, but in general, he was flippant about my allergies because he couldn’t see the difference between his gluten-free week and my medical issues. Not eating gluten didn’t fix him (though, of course, he ate gluten) so how could my issues be real?

Not to mention, had he had a real gluten issue, like an allergy or celiac, he wouldn’t have even eaten his salad, as the dressing more than likely had gluten. And the cross contamination of the croutons in other salads would have been an issue.

The more people who go on fake gluten-free diets, the harder it is for people who actually do get sick from gluten to explain their needs coherently. Or for people with other food needs to be heard. I’m not talking about people who are intellectually honest about it — people who say, “I can eat gluten in small amounts, but my doctors have said it affects X condition. I don’t suffer from celiac disease or food allergies, but gluten is a trigger for my X condition.” I’m talking about people who talk about how they gave up gluten and their stomachs are “better” and yet, they sneak gluten in every now and then and “regret it.” People who have self diagnosed a sensitivity to gluten and therefore don’t eat it…except when they do.

You don’t “regret it” when you go to the hospital for an anaphylactic allergy. You thank god that you’re alive. You don’t “regret it” when you’re hunched over your toilet for days except when you’re fast asleep and talking incoherently because you have a celiac flare. You thank god that you’re alive and probably notice some dirt in the grout on your bathroom tiles.

The good news is, a follow-up study to the non-celiac gluten sensitivity study was just conducted, and it turns out, there likely isn’t such a thing. Read the info here. So maybe all this nonsense will stop. And we can move on to other fad diets, like paleo or Atkins or you know,  just eating in moderation.

Let’s leave off with a good laugh with Jimmy Kimmel, who’s totally on my team. He asked people on a gluten free diet what gluten is — and like my former colleague, they had not a clue. It’s kind of hilarious.

 

And Two Years Later…Ruminations on Purim, Food, and Other Stuffs

I started this blog two years ago yesterday. Time flies, huh?

I remember going to the allergist for the first time two years ago, getting my test results, and freaking out that Purim, the Jewish holiday that involves not only a meal but an exchange of food gifts (imagine Halloween + Thanksgiving) was days away, and I didn’t know how to eat. A friend of mine and I went to a high-end kosher restaurant. I ordered off the menu and got mildly sick, which made sense given the state of shock my body was in then. Eating was a chore, figuring out what to eat was hard. I clung to my list of allergies at all times, fearful I’d forget something. Things got worse before they got better, and I resorted to a diet of eating the same foods only three times a week and eating nothing — NOTHING — that was prepared by someone other than me or a friend I could truly trust. No packaged or processed foods. 700-900 calories on a good day.

I don’t know how I did it.

Today, for instance, I ate chips, cheese, chocolate chips, soda, matzah, pasta, and canned beans. All foods that were off limits back then (I also ate other food today, don’t fret). I hate to say and am thrilled to say I took that all for granted. It’s become natural to me, again, to eat certain packaged foods. I’ve learned to count in my head (as the three times a week rule still applies). I don’t have a calendar, I just go with my gut, which usually knows when to stop.

I think about how far I’ve come, and what’s next. On Tuesday, I begin a treatment called Xolair. It’s complicated, and in the interest of not spreading misinformation because I’m a blogger not a doctor, I implore you to visit their website and consult your own physician before trusting me. But basically, there’s a chance Xolair can help mitigate my food allergies. There are risks involved (anaphylaxis among them) and it may not do anything at all, but if it works, I may be able to eat some foods I’m allergic to, or at least cross-contaminate with them.

Two years later…and I’m doing something I didn’t think I could: I’m getting better. Or at least trying to.

But I’m also terrified, I won’t lie. I’m terrified of the following:

1. Anaphylaxis. It’s a risk, and I just don’t want to experience it. I’m already on steroids to cope with pollen allergies, and I just want to get back to normal and sleep better and not have a near-death experience that incapacitates me. I’m trying to remember that this risk of anaphylaxis is okay because I’ll be at the doctor’s office, and that every time I eat food I’m somewhat at risk, especially outside of my own home, especially processed food. Every time I go to the grocery store, I’m at risk. So, why am I more afraid knowing on Tuesday there’s a new kind of risk? If anything, its safer. But I think it’s the same reason I don’t get the flu shot. I usually get fever and flu-like symptoms from vaccines, so the idea of scheduling the flu always seems sillier than taking my chances with the actual thing. This is like that, only flu = anaphylaxis. But, I’ll have medical care. Don’t be scared, Cindy.

2. The treatment not working. What a let down that will be. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and what if it’s not there? Science will improve, surely, and this isn’t my last chance, but right now my eggs are in this one basket and I am very scared that it’ll be for nothing. Can I live this way forever? Yes. But knowing there’s a teeny tiny chance I don’t have to? I don’t want that chance to be taken away.

3. The treatment working. What is the world like without food allergies? What if I could eat fish? What if I counted at catered events? What if I didn’t have to lug 4 epipens with me everywhere I went? What if I didn’t see kids with sticky fingers and get terrified of them touching me? What if people think that since this treatment worked, allergies aren’t real? What if they go away and come back? My whole paradigm might shift and it sounds extraordinary but it’s also like waking up one day and realizing you don’t speak the same language anymore. That the world you live in is at once the same and totally different. It might be AMAZING. I hope it is. But it’s scary, too. Will I become a binge eater? Will I like kale? More importantly, will I lose my sensitivity to others? I never want to eat nuts on an airplane. But if I can eat like a normal person, will I forget the tricks of the trade that keep my former peers safe? I have a sixth sense now. I’m like a food mentalist, tracking motions of foods and eating behaviours. Will that go away when I don’t have to care? And if so, will that jeopardize the people around me and the advocacy I’ve begun to treat as second nature?

All of these fears have occupied my headspace for months. I have found ways to talk myself out of each one. They even largely contradict each other. But they are swimming in the back of my mind.

Two years ago, I was terrified I’d never adjust to a new diet and a new set of rules and weekly food challenges. Now, I’m given the chance to not only go back to before that — the days of carefully eating out, of having 20 allergies instead of 50 — but to a place I’ve never been. I can do this.

Maybe next Purim, I will be able to partake in any feast. I will be able to give and receive Mishloach Manot baskets of food without fear. I’m lucky — this year and last, my friends and family went above and beyond to include me in the holiday — my parents had a friend bake me food I can eat, my friend hosted a feast I could partake in, and friends gave me unconventional food baskets tailored to my diet in the nicest ways. I feel bad wanting more, hoping that next year it will be easier on me and on them, because I’ve already been given so much and treated with such generosity. And yet…I’m excited.  I’m excited to not have to be an exception or a hindrance or even noticeably different.

These last two years have been rough but I’ve settled in. I’ve learned a lot about strength, food, friendship, family — not in that order — and it feels at once like no time has passed and like I’ve lived this way forever. So whatever’s next…whichever fear is realized…I know I can face it.

So, Are You Gluten-Free?

I am not gluten-free.

First of all, I can eat loads of gluten (loads being a hyperbole. I can have rye, wheat, and barley three times a week each and can’t have spelt yet). I may be cottonseed oil-free, leafy green-free, fish-free, nut-free, pomegranate-free, horseradish-free, plum-free, peach-free, grapefruit-free, cauliflower-free, mushroom-free, gum-free, chickpea-free, etc., but bring on the gluten!

Oh yeah, and second of all, I’m not a food. Or the lack there of.

A cookie can be gluten-free. A burger. A menu option. Even a shampoo. Foods or products that one could suspect contain gluten can, in fact, turn out to be free of gluten.

People, on the other hand, do not contain gluten. Therefore, I’m as gluten-free as the best of them, but I’m also door-free, spoon-free, DVD-free, paper towel-free (is it obvious I’m just naming things I see in my apartment?).

I’m often asked, though, the titular question of this post: “So, are you gluten-free?” I always say, “No, I’m all about gluten, I just can’t have that bread because of x (where x=cottonseed oil; traces of nuts; untrustworthy factory; too-processed; not challenged yet, etc.).

I know it’s not meant to be a hurtful question. And most of the time, I don’t let it become one. I like to pretend I’m impervious to pain. But I’m not. And sometimes, a gnawing thought will come to my mind and I’ll recall the last time someone asked me if I was gluten-free and I just scream to myself, “No, I’m CINDY!”

Cindy.

I am a writer, a leader, an advocate, a doer, a thinker, a consultant, a reader, a TV-fanatic, a dog lover, a student, a teacher, a cook, a dancer, a rapper, a comedian, an ENFJ who teeters on the lines of ENTP. A friend, a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, an aunt, a niece, a cousin, a person. A Jew, a New Yorker, a Brooklynite, a Brandeisian, a sort-of Angelino, a Trojan.

I’m reminded of an art exhibit I read about recently that I can’t stop thinking about. A group of people were photographed with writing on their body indicating an identifying factor, and the photos were accompanied by a caption indicating what they were not. (http://www.tabletmag.com/scroll/161489/provocative-photo-project-goes-viral-among-orthodox-students#undefined). I often ponder the questions of identity (there’s a whole rabbit hole there, and this isn’t the blog for it. Please see my other blog at www.aliceinwonderland.com for those questions #notreallymyblog), and I think some of that is because my identity often gets taken away from me.

What I mean is, I often first meet people in the context of meals. Food is how we socialize these days — especially in the Jewish community — so the first thing most people learn about me outside of a professional environment is “Cindy is allergic to lots of things (but isn’t gluten-free).” That’s fine, and my life depends on it, but there’s so much more. See above. That’s a partial list. And while I’m “the girl with the many food allergies” I’m not just “the girl with the many food allergies.” And I don’t want to be.

So why keep this blog, you ask? You, meaning anyone who’s ever had the above conversation with me in real life. For a few reasons. One, to update my family and friends on my challenge status. I neglected to mention in my “identity paragraph” (ew) that I’m a social butterfly (BH, that one’s for you, and for everyone else, it’s tongue-in-cheek). I live far away from my family and many friends, and this blog allows me to keep them (you?) updated with my progress without having to make a bunch of phone calls. Two, to keep a log for myself. I could keep a private diary, but the motivation is stronger when I know I’m accountable to an audience. This log has proven helpful as I’ve decided what to challenge, as I’ve looked back on recipes, as I’ve struggled to remember how far I’ve come. Records are important, and this is mine. Three, when I was first experiencing increased symptoms, I turned to Google because I was too scared to talk to most of my friends (though, T, thank you again for being my constant G-chat support and Benedryl enforcer). I found blogs to be helpful resources, but also primarily geared toward mothers or people who had more common allergies. I wanted to be a voice in the space for someone with multiple allergies, in their 20s, who had the allergies forever but saw them get worse. And some of you have reached out to me letting me know I’ve helped you — which means everything. When I see someone’s search query “allergy to horseradish???” I know that I made them feel like they weren’t crazy, something that’s rarely been done for me. In turn, and this is number Four, by seeing people’s queries, by interacting with readers, I feel like I’m not crazy. Someone else is allergic to horseradish. Therefore, I’m not making it up in my own life.

All of the above wins in the cost/benefit analysis of my identity issue. But. That doesn’t mean I want to be Super Allergic Cindy. I just want to be Cindy, whose food allergies are impactful but not any more identifying than someone’s IBS, cancer, insomnia, ADHD, etc. Not that those are all equal, but you get the point. Everyone’s got something. I have this. But that doesn’t mean I am this. Tener and Ser are two different verbs (thank you, Duolingo!)

I don’t need anyone to validate my scope of identity. But I would like it to be invalidated less often. And I know I’m not alone in this. So, instead of asking “Are you gluten-free?” next time someone doesn’t reach for the bread, try one of these two options:

1. Don’t ask anything, and let them not eat bread. Who are you, Marie Antoinette?

2. Ask, “Would you like me to steer clear of you with the bread because of a dietary restriction?”

Or, I guess, 3. “Do you not eat gluten/do you only eat gluten free?

Same goes for all food-related things. If you must know, ask about the food, not the person. But maybe don’t ask, and wait for someone to say something. My friend wrote an excellent piece about this on his new blog about living with Type 1 Diabetes, how we don’t know why other people eat the way they do and shouldn’t make assumptions about their habits. He’s right. And I promise, if my life is in danger, I’ll let you know.

Because I’m Cindy. And among other things, I’m the furthest thing from shy.

This is Cindy.

This is Cindy.

This is food.
This is food.

 

Food Challenge Round 36 & 37: Cindy vs. Balsamic Vinegar & Tequila

I promise, I don’t drink that much. Even though 5 of my 37 challenges have involved alcoholic beverages, I promise I don’t drink that much.

I just…I know I’m not really allergic to alcohol, and I’m too scared to try food. The almonds were so painful, and then I followed that up two weeks later with a restaurant experience gone wrong (will try to share when I feel fully emotionally healed), and I needed to just try things that felt safe so my body could continue to heal while I also increase my diet.

So I tried balsamic vinegar first. I had intended to eat it on peppers, but on the insistence of the nurse, I ate it plain. Dipped my pinky finger in it and licked it plain. Like it was Passover and I was dipping my finger in the wine for the plagues. 1. It was gross. 2. It was seriously gross. 3. My doctor was cracking up and finally realized why people like instagram (no, he didn’t instagram me, but he thought it would make a good moment. Further no, I still don’t get instagram). 4. I passed!

I asked if that meant I could have sulfites. I mean, seriously. Beer, rum, two kinds of wine, and vinegar — who are we kidding, I can have sulfites. Just because once some grape juice kicked my ass doesn’t mean I’m reactive to sulfites. So the doctor said I could try one more alcohol and be cleared for all sulfite beverages…meaning all wines…yes!

Hence, the tequila.

I had never done a tequila shot before. My tequila was strictly reserved for margaritas and on screen via Meredith Grey. But, apparently, challenging a margarita could yield incorrect results as who knows if the margarita ingredients were the issue, so, a shot it was. And not a shot with salt and lime. Just plain ol’ tequila.

At 7:30am.

Which I thought would be horrifying.

Turns out it was perfectly pleasant.

Please note again, I don’t drink that much.

But damn. Tequila is way better than vodka. It hits you hard. It’s lighter than I expected. I could drink it again. And I will. Because I passed. So now…all wines!

I’ll still favor cabernet sauvignon. It’s been a good friend and it’s delicious. But not having to worry every Shabbat that I’ll miss out on kiddush, the blessing over wine, because I’m at a dinner where the wine served isn’t cab sav — that’s a weight lifted off my shoulders. It’s hard to explain how happy I am, how relieved, how normal I feel now.

Who knew a tequila shot could be so strong?

Food Challenge Tally

Cindy: 27

Allergens: 4

Food Challenge Round 30: Cindy vs. Pasta – The Rematch

Thirty food challenges. Wow. That’s an insane number, and I wonder if I’ve broken a world record.

But more important than the number of food challenges is the result of this one — I tried barilla pasta and WON! I tried Ronzoni about a year ago and basically everything went dark and I drove to work to grab my laptop to come home and vomited on my way there and then got home and passed out. This time, I ate a bowl of pasta, and went on with my day as though nothing had happened, BECAUSE NOTHING HAD HAPPENED.

Now, I don’t know if it’s the time of healing, or the brand of pasta, but I do know that I don’t have to rely on corn quinoa pasta anymore. I have to control my impulse to eat pasta twice a day every day, but I feel like I might be ok at that now that cooking is second nature.

When I made pasta for dinner tonight, I’d forgotten how to cook it. With corn quinoa pasta, you boil the noodles in the water. Regular pasta, notsomuch. The timing is different. I have to relearn the most basic cooking skill. But hey. I’ll figure it out. I make handmade gnocchi like it’s no big deal!

Cannot express how much joy I feel now that this is back in my life:

photo (11)

Food Challenge Tally:

Cindy: 22

Allergens: 4

Up Next: 3rd teaspoon of peanut butter

Tips for Friends Who Have Friends Living with Food Allergies (via Epipen Princess)

Loved this guest blog on Epipen Princess’ blog about how to be a friend to someone who has food allergies. I feel very blessed to have the friends that I do who take caution in what they eat around me, who offer to help me buy groceries, who cook for me when I need them to, who offer to pick me up from the doctor’s office. It’s sometimes scary living alone 3,000 miles away from my family, but knowing I have friends who are there for me makes it all that easier.

http://ataleofanaphylaxis.wordpress.com/2013/08/18/guest-blog-post-tips-for-friends-who-have-friends-living-with-food-allergies/

 

Oh, Dating with Food Allergies…

If I wasn’t half asleep I’d probably expand on this post a little more, but Howaboutwe’s Marla Pachter has it pretty much covered. Love her sense of humor about how awkward it can be to go on dates with a ton of food allergies. Read her article here. It’s hilarious.

Just a few comments, and excuse the potential lack of cohesiveness to this post — I do need to catch up on sleep now that I AM ON MY LAST FEW HOURS OF PREDNISONE after a whirlwind of 12 emotional, insomnia-filled days…

1. You’re not supposed to mention things like weird illnesses or awkward dealbreakers on a first, or even second date. It’s like, everyone has their thing, but you don’t need to broadcast yours to the world like it’s a bright red flag. So if my thing is food allergies, how do I not do that on a first date that’s dinner related? Yes, we can go to drinks or minigolf or the beach but if some guy says “Hey Cindy, I want to take you to dinner” and I say “Howaboutwe go minigolfing instead?” I’m sure he’ll say why, and then it’s like, do I lie? Do I say, “I just prefer minigolfing” and come off all weird and high maintenance? If it goes somewhere, he’ll find out that dinner’s hard, so there’s no use pretending it’s not. I guess I just have to be the girl guys don’t want to take to dinner. I have to give off a minigolfing vibe. Maybe invest in some polo shirts and golf cleats.

2. I have totally suggested a guy order food I was allergic to while on a date so that he would fail when he tried to kiss me. True story. I was all, “yeah, you should order that mushroom pasta, mmmm it sounds so good”  when he was debating between that and the dish I was having and then later I was like, “oh no! so sorry, you had mushrooms, let’s just wave goodbye…” Sometimes, you know at the start of the date where it’s going, and I saw it was going nowhere, and got myself out of what could have otherwise been an awkward head-tilt that’s only good for my amazing masseuse May. So, there’s a plus side to dating with allergies.

And now, for my long awaited sleep…