Today I declared to my husband, “I’m about to fall off the wagon.” You see, we have reservations at this über hot restaurant in LA, and one of the chefs is related to a friend of my husband’s. Which means, amuse bouche and ridiculous desserts will be the name of the game. This is AWESOME. Unless you have celiac disease and can’t eat gluten. It’s amazing how gluten can seep into every damn thing. And when your villi look like someone took a chainsaw to the poor little things, you have to repair that shit before you can say, “Oh, maybe just this once.*”
So this is how my husband responded (picture soulful look in his eye): “I know you don’t remember how sick you were. But you were very, very, ill, and for a long time. You were miserable and it affected your entire life. It affected my life, it affected the kids.” (Dramatic pause) “It even affected the dog.”
It’s been about a few months since I did this to my cabinet:
And while I was gung-ho in those first weeks, I’m starting to lose my resolve. Yes, I was sick for about three months. But most celiacs are sick an average of 10 years before they are diagnosed. And furthermore, I had an extra health issue that was exasperating the stomach problems, and once that was over, I started getting dramatically better even BEFORE I cut out the gluten. So I have these thoughts in the back of my head that maybe every now and then it IS okay. Which is why I need my husband around to remind me how much I hurt the dog with my neglect. It’s true I thought about giving her away more than once. I found myself calculating her life span and wondering if it wasn’t just time for her to go to that big dog park in the sky. I forgot to take her to the vet, and never patted her little fuzzy head as she lay beside me while I worked. I was a bad, bad, dog owner. So ELI, I’m going to skip whatever gluten’y dessert is offered to me tonight — for you. Please try not to poop on the floor while we’re out, just so I know you appreciate the sacrifices I make on your behalf.
*Please don’t attack me. I KNOW I should never, ever, ever have gluten again. I KNOW.
Gluten is my Bitch 
Sounds like me falling of the weight watchers wagon. I was treating my issues with food as a curable ailment, sort of the same as a cold. I’d think: “Once I lose the weight, I’m cured. Then, I can go back to eating like crap again.” ‘Cept that’s not true. It’s really hard to stay excited or motivated when the novelty wears off. Once in a while a cheat day is OK but in your case it has longer lasting repercussions. Sadly, your husbands words are very true and should be what we all think in the back of our heads. if we don’t remember the before, we can never appreciate the after. Hang in there girl!!!
P.S. Dessert is MY bitch. LOL
C
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