There is a fable which states that if you put a frog into a pot of boiling water it will immediately jump out, but if you put it into cool water and slowly turn up the heat it will stay in and die. It has been used as a metaphor in politics, business, and for climate change. Today, I'm going to use it to describe my experience with an illness I have unknowingly had for probably many months. The illness caused another condition which eventually lead to its discovery.
I had a few years as a young adolescent when I was sick quite a bit. I seemed to catch everything that came around and was diagnosed with asthma at the age most kids were outgrowing it. As I became an older teen and then into my 20's I became as "healthy as a horse." Other than those few adolescent years my health has been stellar up until some point in the recent past months. I cannot exactly pinpoint a starting date of my decline, I just know it has been a while.
I can't really articulate many of what you would call "symptoms." I was tired. Everyone in modern society is tired. A nap would not make me feel better; in fact, I didn't necessarily sleep very well and I wasn't necessarily "sleepy." I was fatigued; I had little energy which, in turn, felt like a lack of motivation. I found myself working and volunteering less and sitting around more. Exercise became too exhausting to continue. Sometimes my heart would race and I would be out of breath just walking up the stairs. I just shrugged and thought I was out of shape and getting older. Everything that needed to be done got done and, to my knowledge, no one around me even noticed anything different. But I knew I was not at my best.
I consider myself to be a happy person. I take most things in stride and look for the positive in all situations; on hard days I always have hope for a better tomorrow. However, many people close to me struggle with depression and other mental illnesses so it is something I am familiar with and is frequently on my mind. I recently finished a book about people's experiences with depression. I thought I could relate to some things and wondered if I were having my own experience with depression. I wasn't necessarily sad, but I was melancholy and somewhat numb emotionally. I considered going to the doctor about it, but knowing myself, it would have been highly unlikely. Even if I had, I wonder if I would have started on the wrong treatment path.
As it turns out, the Lord placed me on a path to discover the real cause of my fatigue. In February our stake was sponsoring a blood drive and I was sitting by Emma when the sign up sheet came around. I told her we should go together. She reluctantly agreed and we picked a time immediately after school. On the day of the drive I, of course, was tired and I knew dinner needed to be prepared, kids run around, and homework helped with. I most likely would have quietly been a no show had Emma not signed up with me. But since she had, I went. We met at the church and headed in.
There is a considerable amount of preliminary paperwork that needs to be filled out. After that, we each were called up by a technician who checked our pulses, blood pressures, temperatures, and red blood cell counts. My first three items were high and the last one was low. The first three were not high enough to count me out, but the low one was. I don't usually have high any of those things. My red blood cell count, I was told, was so low that they were supposed to call the doctor for me. I assured the young lass that I would call him myself. After my rejection from donating, I went over to where Emma was getting the same looking over and was rejected as well. She had gotten her ears pierced just a couple of weeks previously and was told that she needed to wait a year. The cute lady was reassuring her how grateful they were that she wanted to donate and trying to make her feel better. I knew that she didn't feel the least bit bad that she couldn't do it that day. She was just doing her civic duty, taking one for the team, and facing her fear of needles. She was more than happy to know that she would be off the hook for a whole year.
True to my word, I called my doctor as soon as I got home. I had only seen this doctor once. During the years I was having babies I was seen by a doctor a lot, including for routine physicals. In the 13 years since then I have been to an urgent care clinic a couple of times, visited a gynecologist once or twice and had had my esophagus stretched once (I guess I do have an irritating physical issue that I will explain later). When I was almost 50 I decided I should probably develop a working relationship with a primary care physician and have the recommended colonoscopy and mammogram. I had been to this doctor exactly one time exactly 17 months earlier.
During the appointment, my red blood cell count was checked again and was slightly lower than it was two weeks previously. It was also low enough that the doctor felt like I was likely bleeding somewhere in my digestive system or losing too much blood in my periods. He drew a bunch of blood and set me up with the gastroenterologist who had fixed me up a year and a half ago. I have a small esophagus and the opening between my esophagus and my stomach is small and I have stomach acid that comes up into my esophagus. This is a recipe for food getting stuck in said esophagus. It is painful; sometimes the food eventually goes down and sometimes it comes back up. I had a procedure done that stretched out the opening and I will be taking an acid reducer for the rest of my life. No biggie.
I had an endoscopy done about a week after I had met with my primary care physician and a really cool camera was placed into my small intestine and I got to wear a cool belt and a thing around my neck with some sort of gizmo that recorded pictures that were taken for 24 hours. That is all very technical, I know, but that's all I've got. A biopsy was taken of my small intestine while they were in the area. I mentioned to the doctor that my husband has celiac disease and I had none of the symptoms. I was cleared of having bleeding ulcers right away, which to be perfectly honest, is what I had convinced myself that I had. It seemed the most logical given the acid problems I already knew I had. Sometimes I have to take Tums in addition to my other acid reducer. When that wasn't the problem, my next hypothesis was too much period bleeding. I was getting mentally prepared for the possibility of a hysterectomy.
The doctor called me the day after I had returned all my cool accessories. In my experience, when the doctor calls and not a nurse or medical assistant it is not going to be good news. He cheerfully told me that he saw nothing of concern from the camera that traveled throughout my gut. I was not surprised. "However," he said, "the thing that no one thought would be the problem is, you have celiac disease." I trusted the results of the test on one side of my brain, but the other one was incredulous. I have zero of the most common symptoms. He said that while uncommon, he occasionally diagnoses people with no digestive symptoms. So the problem is not that I am bleeding, which really is good news. The fact that the villi in my small intestine has been destroyed because my body decided that gluten was bad and now it could not absorb iron and in turn could not produce an adequate amount of red blood cells is not. Anemia is a result of long-term untreated celiac disease.
While this news may have been shocking, it was also a relief; shocking because of the lack of obvious symptoms, but relieving since I am familiar with the condition and more importantly I have control over its remedy! The doctor was very compassionate and gave me a good pep talk. He said he wanted to see me in his office in a month and asked if I wanted to see a dietitian or not. Because my husband has it too, maybe I know more than the average newly diagnosed and don't need to meet with one. I said I would really like my husband to meet with a dietitian, so hook us up. I hope that since he doesn't have to go it alone that he will be better at taking care of his health. When I told my sister, Erika, about the results she said that needing a hysterectomy would have been better because after a six to eight week recovery all would be well and celiac is a life-long adventure. I told her that that thought had crossed my mind too.
It stinks because, you know, homemade rolls, whole wheat toast, and chocolate chip cookies. Yes, I know that there are gluten free alternatives; I also know that there is nothing as good as the real thing. So far the hardest part for me is not taking a nibble of this or a nibble of that. I am what my mom calls a "picker" and she should know because she is one too. Estelle made a beautiful and I'm sure delicious cake that sat on the counter for a week. I had to remind myself not to take a little taste of it. There are plenty of delicious naturally gluten free foods available that I probably won't even lose any weight. It will become my new normal and life will go on. I am not really worried about eating at home; I have been reading labels for years. We now have a gluten free butter dish and toaster; however, I think that some yummy gluten free crackers I purchased at Costco will be my go to most of the time. It will be more inconvenient and awkward in restaurants and social gatherings. We are already the crazy no peanut or tree nut, and carb counting family, we might as well add no gluten to the list, right?
It turns out that being fatigued, and having your heart race when you walk up the stairs is not a normal sign of aging. I have been the frog who has had the metaphoric heat slowly turned up. As the heat increased, my health decreased. It decreased slowly enough that I discounted it and accepted it as the new normal. I have learned the hard way that while it is usually best not to complain, dismissing even seemingly small symptoms is not. This whole experience is another testament to me that God is in the details of our lives. The exact sequence of events that took place to get me to the doctor could only have been put into place by the Creator of frogs and me.
I have been off gluten for two weeks now and have been taking iron supplements for four. I am surprised at how quickly I am feeling better. It is such a blessing! I can do all the things I want to do. I have more energy and my mind is clearer. I am not depressed. I feel more peace and joy. God is with us and He is good.
I had a few years as a young adolescent when I was sick quite a bit. I seemed to catch everything that came around and was diagnosed with asthma at the age most kids were outgrowing it. As I became an older teen and then into my 20's I became as "healthy as a horse." Other than those few adolescent years my health has been stellar up until some point in the recent past months. I cannot exactly pinpoint a starting date of my decline, I just know it has been a while.
I can't really articulate many of what you would call "symptoms." I was tired. Everyone in modern society is tired. A nap would not make me feel better; in fact, I didn't necessarily sleep very well and I wasn't necessarily "sleepy." I was fatigued; I had little energy which, in turn, felt like a lack of motivation. I found myself working and volunteering less and sitting around more. Exercise became too exhausting to continue. Sometimes my heart would race and I would be out of breath just walking up the stairs. I just shrugged and thought I was out of shape and getting older. Everything that needed to be done got done and, to my knowledge, no one around me even noticed anything different. But I knew I was not at my best.
I consider myself to be a happy person. I take most things in stride and look for the positive in all situations; on hard days I always have hope for a better tomorrow. However, many people close to me struggle with depression and other mental illnesses so it is something I am familiar with and is frequently on my mind. I recently finished a book about people's experiences with depression. I thought I could relate to some things and wondered if I were having my own experience with depression. I wasn't necessarily sad, but I was melancholy and somewhat numb emotionally. I considered going to the doctor about it, but knowing myself, it would have been highly unlikely. Even if I had, I wonder if I would have started on the wrong treatment path.
As it turns out, the Lord placed me on a path to discover the real cause of my fatigue. In February our stake was sponsoring a blood drive and I was sitting by Emma when the sign up sheet came around. I told her we should go together. She reluctantly agreed and we picked a time immediately after school. On the day of the drive I, of course, was tired and I knew dinner needed to be prepared, kids run around, and homework helped with. I most likely would have quietly been a no show had Emma not signed up with me. But since she had, I went. We met at the church and headed in.
There is a considerable amount of preliminary paperwork that needs to be filled out. After that, we each were called up by a technician who checked our pulses, blood pressures, temperatures, and red blood cell counts. My first three items were high and the last one was low. The first three were not high enough to count me out, but the low one was. I don't usually have high any of those things. My red blood cell count, I was told, was so low that they were supposed to call the doctor for me. I assured the young lass that I would call him myself. After my rejection from donating, I went over to where Emma was getting the same looking over and was rejected as well. She had gotten her ears pierced just a couple of weeks previously and was told that she needed to wait a year. The cute lady was reassuring her how grateful they were that she wanted to donate and trying to make her feel better. I knew that she didn't feel the least bit bad that she couldn't do it that day. She was just doing her civic duty, taking one for the team, and facing her fear of needles. She was more than happy to know that she would be off the hook for a whole year.
True to my word, I called my doctor as soon as I got home. I had only seen this doctor once. During the years I was having babies I was seen by a doctor a lot, including for routine physicals. In the 13 years since then I have been to an urgent care clinic a couple of times, visited a gynecologist once or twice and had had my esophagus stretched once (I guess I do have an irritating physical issue that I will explain later). When I was almost 50 I decided I should probably develop a working relationship with a primary care physician and have the recommended colonoscopy and mammogram. I had been to this doctor exactly one time exactly 17 months earlier.
During the appointment, my red blood cell count was checked again and was slightly lower than it was two weeks previously. It was also low enough that the doctor felt like I was likely bleeding somewhere in my digestive system or losing too much blood in my periods. He drew a bunch of blood and set me up with the gastroenterologist who had fixed me up a year and a half ago. I have a small esophagus and the opening between my esophagus and my stomach is small and I have stomach acid that comes up into my esophagus. This is a recipe for food getting stuck in said esophagus. It is painful; sometimes the food eventually goes down and sometimes it comes back up. I had a procedure done that stretched out the opening and I will be taking an acid reducer for the rest of my life. No biggie.
I had an endoscopy done about a week after I had met with my primary care physician and a really cool camera was placed into my small intestine and I got to wear a cool belt and a thing around my neck with some sort of gizmo that recorded pictures that were taken for 24 hours. That is all very technical, I know, but that's all I've got. A biopsy was taken of my small intestine while they were in the area. I mentioned to the doctor that my husband has celiac disease and I had none of the symptoms. I was cleared of having bleeding ulcers right away, which to be perfectly honest, is what I had convinced myself that I had. It seemed the most logical given the acid problems I already knew I had. Sometimes I have to take Tums in addition to my other acid reducer. When that wasn't the problem, my next hypothesis was too much period bleeding. I was getting mentally prepared for the possibility of a hysterectomy.
The doctor called me the day after I had returned all my cool accessories. In my experience, when the doctor calls and not a nurse or medical assistant it is not going to be good news. He cheerfully told me that he saw nothing of concern from the camera that traveled throughout my gut. I was not surprised. "However," he said, "the thing that no one thought would be the problem is, you have celiac disease." I trusted the results of the test on one side of my brain, but the other one was incredulous. I have zero of the most common symptoms. He said that while uncommon, he occasionally diagnoses people with no digestive symptoms. So the problem is not that I am bleeding, which really is good news. The fact that the villi in my small intestine has been destroyed because my body decided that gluten was bad and now it could not absorb iron and in turn could not produce an adequate amount of red blood cells is not. Anemia is a result of long-term untreated celiac disease.
While this news may have been shocking, it was also a relief; shocking because of the lack of obvious symptoms, but relieving since I am familiar with the condition and more importantly I have control over its remedy! The doctor was very compassionate and gave me a good pep talk. He said he wanted to see me in his office in a month and asked if I wanted to see a dietitian or not. Because my husband has it too, maybe I know more than the average newly diagnosed and don't need to meet with one. I said I would really like my husband to meet with a dietitian, so hook us up. I hope that since he doesn't have to go it alone that he will be better at taking care of his health. When I told my sister, Erika, about the results she said that needing a hysterectomy would have been better because after a six to eight week recovery all would be well and celiac is a life-long adventure. I told her that that thought had crossed my mind too.
It stinks because, you know, homemade rolls, whole wheat toast, and chocolate chip cookies. Yes, I know that there are gluten free alternatives; I also know that there is nothing as good as the real thing. So far the hardest part for me is not taking a nibble of this or a nibble of that. I am what my mom calls a "picker" and she should know because she is one too. Estelle made a beautiful and I'm sure delicious cake that sat on the counter for a week. I had to remind myself not to take a little taste of it. There are plenty of delicious naturally gluten free foods available that I probably won't even lose any weight. It will become my new normal and life will go on. I am not really worried about eating at home; I have been reading labels for years. We now have a gluten free butter dish and toaster; however, I think that some yummy gluten free crackers I purchased at Costco will be my go to most of the time. It will be more inconvenient and awkward in restaurants and social gatherings. We are already the crazy no peanut or tree nut, and carb counting family, we might as well add no gluten to the list, right?
It turns out that being fatigued, and having your heart race when you walk up the stairs is not a normal sign of aging. I have been the frog who has had the metaphoric heat slowly turned up. As the heat increased, my health decreased. It decreased slowly enough that I discounted it and accepted it as the new normal. I have learned the hard way that while it is usually best not to complain, dismissing even seemingly small symptoms is not. This whole experience is another testament to me that God is in the details of our lives. The exact sequence of events that took place to get me to the doctor could only have been put into place by the Creator of frogs and me.
I have been off gluten for two weeks now and have been taking iron supplements for four. I am surprised at how quickly I am feeling better. It is such a blessing! I can do all the things I want to do. I have more energy and my mind is clearer. I am not depressed. I feel more peace and joy. God is with us and He is good.
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