So we played this game the other night at dinner, and like most family games I was totally in. Except for LIFE. I hate that game. The theme of this particular deserted (or is it desert? I don’t think there are islands in the desert, right? Or is that just a saying? Anyhoo.) was “What would your breakfast, lunch and dinner be if you had to eat the same three meals on a desert(ed) island?”
My family doesn’t do just one meal. We know that’s ridiculous.
As my youngest started in, I was enjoying it. Then my daughter even mentioned my zucchini muffins AND my ice cream cake. The only thing was, I went last and every single family member before me mentioned Western Bagels as their breakfast. BAGELS. Gluten-filled bagels. There was more than one name check of Umami Burger, and of course, there were other foods that had gluten too, and it just made me so sad because, me? I can’t even fantasize about my last meals/desert island/dream meals because I can’t eat them or I would die. You know, eventually.
Then, there was that one night last week when I was all, “You know, this has been a really ‘effing rough year. I’m going to go to one of those movie theaters with the reclining seats and full menu and bar and just enjoy ‘Get Hard’ without distractions.” Because that’s what you do. Then you realize the bartender has zero idea what gluten is and you pray hard that your burger in a lettuce wrap is okay, and fries? Oh hell. That one night that was all about you, turns out to be all about poo.
So, anyway. Deserted island. Desert island. Unclear.
When it was my turn, I told everybody I couldn’t go because I felt too sad and then they were all like, “Pretend you can eat gluten!” And I was like “Pretend you don’t have to work in an office from 9-6 every day, Mr. GIMB!” And I think he understood. Kind of.
The point being, there are some fantasies that are gone forever if you’re diagnosed with celiac. And as someone who has always felt like you can do anything, be anything and go anywhere if you just set your mind to it and work hard enough, well, it’s kind of a big ol’ lie if you don’t have your health. Which is another cliche, and I’m super annoyed that it’s one of those true cliches. That one about having your health. You’ve heard it.
I’ve found myself in a lot of situations—over the past year or two especially—when the fact was, I didn’t have my health. And no matter how fun the celebration, the vacation, the get together, the rad people involved; I was not having fun. It’s not fun to crap your pants all day long during Mother’s Day even if your family has created the most amazing brunch, activities and dinner for you. It’s no fun to go on vacation and be running to the bathroom every hour. Especially when you’re chest deep in the lazy river. And it really sucks it when you go out on a date with your husband and come home and get sick, instead of getting some. All of it. Kind of sucks.
Anyway. Yes, I DID have a great Easter and Passover and we ate like gluten-free kings and queens. As seen here –
And I am grateful for all of that biz that I stuff in my face. And I’m super grateful for the growing awareness, food stuffs, and all of the ice cream in the world. I know what’s good about my life, my food that I nom on, and everything else. I know.
I just really never, ever, ever want to get stuck an island. Filled with dessert, or deserted, or whatever.