Can Someone Tell Me What I’m Doing Wrong?

I’ve started dreaming about poop. Is my body trying to tell me something? Or is it just my brain’s way of dealing with a 7-year long condition? They say you should write down your dreams, so maybe I’ll start diarizing, not only my symptoms and diet, but also the  “consistency and texture” of my  reveries.

My consultation with the gastroenterologist is fast-approaching. My regular doctor has already warned me about her bedside manner, but as long as she doesn’t tell me having diarrhea twice a day, every day for seven years isn’t so bad, and that I’m not a teenager anymore and can’t expect my bowels to funtion like they used to, like my last gastroenterologist said, her and I will get along just fine.

As usual I’ve been trying to be a good little Celiac lately, eating my cardboard and Styrofoam, fruits, veggies, salmon, chicken and nuts, but as usual each day is another diappointment as my symptoms persist.

I’ve had to accept that some of the things I thought I could eat may be the culprits. So, today, I swear off avocado. Sushi has been a saving grace, but they put avocado in just about everything. One of the hardest things about being a suspected Celiac is having to become one of those “special needs” diners. From now on I’ll have to ask for my rolls sans the blessed green fruit.

As I try to weasel out all the culprits, I will use this blog as my food diary: banana, Fruit To Go, unsalted rice cakes…so far so good, or so I hope.

Tomorrow I may have to swear of my wine, but tomorrow is another day, and not today.