March 20, 2010

The days seemed to stand still these past two weeks, but I finally got my results today and met with Dr. G. She came in and flashed her warm smile, which I mistakenly took as a good sign. ‘Not that bad, huh?’ I asked, convinced that foods weren’t (again) the root of my ails. She offered a long ‘Welllllll’ and a big sigh before telling me that she’d “never seen a test as bad as mine.” Childhood flashbacks.

A detailed report outlined which foods were big fat ‘NOs,’ which were ‘Maybes’ and which were ‘A-OK’ were laid out before me. All I saw on those pages was red (which, appropriately, meant STOP! Don’t even think about eating me, stupid!). I left with — and I’m being serious here — about 8 foods that I could eat in an every-three-day rotation (and some of those Yes ‘foods’ were Casein, corn gluten, alfalfa, and a couple random spices, which — let’s be honest — aren’t really foods at all). The rest of the foods (the 90-some percent of them on the list) were off-limits, I was told, until my guts grew stronger and follow-up tests confirmed that I was able to start adding them back into my diet.

Overwhelmed, yet also oddly relieved, I headed straight to Whole Foods to stock up on my meager, yet miserably over-priced organic menu items. There was a chalkboard sign alongside the curb that read: Treat Your Body Like It Belongs to Someone You Love. It was like a little shot of optimism that helped offset the sting of the ridiculously expensive grocery bill.

As hard as this is going to be, I’ve decided that I’m not about to cheat and perpetuate my problem.

The plus in all this: I should lose the pudge I gained, right? *sigh*

Now, excuse me while I go snack on some dirt.

March 4, 2010

Today, at the pleading of my mother and beleaguered hubby, I paid a visit to my trusty doctor (AKA, Dr. G – an incredibly knowledgeable women’s health naturopath I’d seen for acupuncture and annual exams in the past). The last time I saw her was about two years ago. She had been using acupuncture to balance my ‘qui’ and help me kick some of the pain I had (almost daily) in my neck, shoulders, head, and back (which I’d chalked up to hours spent typing on the computer for my journalism job). On my last visit, I arrived with such severe pain in my neck, sternum and back that I could barely turn my head, let alone drive (and breathing? Yeah, totally and ridiculously uncomfortable – almost like I’d been shot with an arrow through my middle). She told me she thought my ribs were out and that I should see a chiropractor pronto to be sure (the acupuncture, after all, could dull the pain, but it wouldn’t relocate my ribs, if that was indeed my problem). Stupidly, I didn’t heed her advice. At least not right away.

A week and a day after she predicted my rib situation, I awakened, stretched…and promptly screamed bloody murder. I heard a very loud, ‘Pop! Pop! Pop!’ and was instantly paralyzed by pain. My hubby, who was taking a shower when it happened, skidded across the floor in a panic to see what the heck was wrong. He had to help me sit upright and stand — and when I did anything (sit, lie down, breathe, etc.), I was in agony. I bawled like a baby until I could get in the next morning to see a friend-recommended chiropractor. He swiftly confirmed my doc’s preliminary diagnosis: nine — NINE! — ribs were dislocated, which explained why I couldn’t even turn my head, let alone sit/stand without pain. Spasms kept me from being adjusted for days and once he could finally adjust, progress was slow. The ribs improved, but were replaced by an electrifying, jolting pain on the left side of my face (trigeminal nerve pain, I learned, and its name was nowhere near as scary as the pain it served up on a nightly basis for more than two weeks. It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced and I’m no baby when it comes to discomfort). Although the origin of this pain was never verified, I’m certain it had to do with my dislocated ribs, which had inadvertently pressed down on this nerve). Fun.

Now for the really frustrating part: my ribs kept ‘slipping’ on a weekly basis. Some days, I’d leave the chiropractor feeling great, but by the time I made it through the first stoplight on my way home, I’d feel that sternum rib pop out again. Ow! Ow! Ow! It was the kind of pain that made you want to punch your mother. This went on for more than a year, not knowing why it was happening and why adjustments weren’t ‘sticking.’ I spent a fortune on chiropractic (even seeing a different one to determine if they knew something my guy didn’t). Nothing worked. And so this continued…and the bucks I was shelling out each week to keep my ribs lined up like good little soldiers ultimately kept me from reaching back out to trusty Dr. G. Besides, I didn’t really think she’d be able to help me with skeletal issues, anyway.

I know this is a long, round-about way to get to my point, but hang in there with me. I bring all this up because my naturopath had been right at every turn, and I can now see how stupid I was to not have kept her in the loop with my health junk over the past year-plus. She probably would have helped me much sooner and could have eliminated many months of pain and frustration (not to mention, money wasted on treatments whose benefits were fleeting). But then again, since adulthood, doctor visits had been a rarity for me. I’d grown tired of hearing from allergists and other practitioners that they ‘didn’t know what to do with me.’ They’d scratch their heads or sometimes look at me like I was nuts…and, often, write me some B.S. prescription, which I’d promptly toss in the trash on my way to the car. I decided that I’d rather heal myself with acupuncture, diet, supplements, blah, blah, blah — and leave the docs for times when something big hit me and knocked me on my ass (like a killer flu I just couldn’t shake).

Interestingly, it wasn’t the chronic rib dislocation or unnerving facial nerve pain that pushed me back in the care of Dr. G. What finally gave me the nudge were the many months and moons of mounting anxiety, out-of-control stress, digestive nightmares, and headaches that left me feeling like a crazy person who was hanging by a frayed thread. Work and daily life stresses, which I would have sailed through swimmingly in the past, were now making me devolve into puddles of tears. Angst-ridden ramblings about how I just couldn’t take it were a weekly norm. I felt as though one more thing placed on my proverbial life plate would make be break into a million pieces. Oh, and despite eating mindfully and juicing daily (even beets and cabbage, for crying out loud!), my weight crept higher. A couple pounds here and there eventually added up to 20 or more over the course of a year or so. And let’s face it: when you’re already feeling blue, stressed or anxious, chub and bloat certainly don’t help the cause.

My husband was patient and supportive, as always. He gave me bear hugs, shoulder rubs and near-weekly pep talks about not letting work and life’s stresses get me down. It worked briefly, but I was right back to where I started a day or two later. He suggested that we try and explore solutions together. My mom, too, told me, gently, that I hadn’t been myself for some time and seemed ‘on edge’ and anxious most days. “Call your doctor, please,” she pleaded. Like a good daughter, I listened (albeit, begrudgingly).

Imagine my (pleasant) surprise when Dr. G informed me that my symptoms seemed indicative of leaky gut (say WHAT?!) and that severe food sensitivities were the root of my self-described ‘craziness.’ Even more insane, the systemic inflammation caused by all this leaky gut thing could have been directly responsible for — wait for it! — my chronically dislocated ribs (and even my unexplained infertility)! If you’re unfamiliar with Leaky Gut, here’s the Cliff Notes version: when your intestines (guts) are weak, the lining can erode and cause small holes or gaps that allow food particles to escape into the blood stream. Because this isn’t ‘normal,’ the body reacts and attempts to rid itself of the foreign invader (i.e., the food you just ate). This causes an overall systemic reaction to the food(s) that enter the bloodstream, which — Ta-Dah! — is typically the root of food sensitivities and, in some cases, full-blown allergies. Unless the guts are healed, the problem continues and worsens, and food sensitivities become an ever-evolving battle you just can’t win.

Given my painfully long history of food allergies, I suppose it’s safe to say that my guts have been leaking my entire life. Still, while I was used to stomach and headache allergy symptoms, I hadn’t really given much thought to how food might impact my ability to cope (especially when I was eating what I believed to be healthy choices). Admittedly, I’m still a bit dubious, but I’m also relieved that this might be my answer. My blood was drawn (NOT an easy feat considering my tiny, rolling little veins, but that’s another story!) and now all I have to do is wait for the results.

It’s going to be a long two weeks.