Dooney'sWorld

A clean sweep and a new beginning

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a woman cleaned out her kitchen cabinet.  

Well, yes, that was me. It was only a month ago, but at times that month has seemed like a black hole of lost time.  And then, another part of me wants to say "What! Only a month!"  Oh well.  I have been here, but often out of touch.  Good intentions alone don't quite cut it, do they?

You see there was a reason for cleaning out the pantry, a reason beyond just plain cleanliness and orderliness that is. I was purging the kitchen, just as I have been purging my body, of gluten.

If you have followed the erratic progress of this blog you may recall that I was previously on a gluten free diet.  And then I wasn't.  And I didn't seem to suffer from the lack.  I won't bore you with all the tedious history.  I thought I had a problem with gluten.  I went off it, I felt better, my doctor's disagreed.  I gradually felt worse again, I was referred to more doctors, specialists in celiac disease, who were also puzzled and who ran more tests.  In the end they told me to go back to eating gluten in September 2007.  I felt fine.  Then G got sick, and had trouble eating and stopped eating bread, pasta, potatoes and rice.  Since getting him to eat at all was a challenge, I adopted the same diet and felt no major lack in my life.  I felt great.  I lost 20 pounds.  Once in a blue moon I would have a small treat mostly a rare indulgence in a lemon bar at the Farmer's Market, really the best lemon bars I have ever had.  But for the most part our life was mostly gluten free although not necessarily by design.

And then everything changed.

In November I had an allergic reaction to Fosamax.  I went to the emergency room twice and was on Prednisone and various antihistamines for 6 weeks.  When I went off the Prednisone I had occasional bursts of hives, mostly on my hands but they got better each week and responded to antihistamines.

And then, sometime in January my body went haywire with hives over more than half of my body, at one part over most of my body.  I couldn't figure it out. No one could figure it out.  I had already been tested for almost everything.  At some point it struck me that my hives got significantly worse after I ate a slice of french bread.  I insisted on a blood test. My doctor's thought it wouldn't show anything, gluten doesn't cause hives usually, but went along with it.  It was positive.  And I cleaned out the pantries.  And I bought gluten-free flours.

More doctors, more tests. I definitely have celiac disease.  No one knows why I get hives when I eat gluten but I do.  Perhaps my body was just in overdrive after the Fosamax allergy.  Perhaps it just had enough.  It is not unheard of, but not common either.  

And I have to be very very careful, more careful than before, when my symptoms were purely abdominal.  The tiniest amount of gluten and I erupt.  Three Hershey's nuggets were enough to make my knees and feet erupt in hives and swell so much that I couldn't walk for two days.

Two glasses of ginger ale resulted in swollen feet, lips that looked like hot air balloons, and a hive on my throat that made it difficult to swallow. Who thinks of ginger ale as having gluten?  I do now.  

We are going on a road trip and I have gluten free snacks in the car:  almonds, and raisinettes and potato chips.  We have a list of chain restaurants that have gluten free menus or have gluten free items on their menu and will make the effort to make sure the food is safe.  So much of convenient highway food revolves around bread and flour.  I downloaded some menus and made a list and a file for the car. When we find a nice cafe that has salads or nice simple grilled foods that I can eat we will note it for future trips.

I am going to start baking again but at the moment my emphasis has just been on feeling better, not trying new things.  Besides which, I know I can make excellent gluten-free pasta dough for lasagna and ravioli, or probably whatever else we want.  And I can make a pretty good pie crust too.

I bought this book at Christmas for my brother and kept a copy for myself.  I have had some excellent gluten free breads, cakes and cookies at the Culinary and I am looking forward to trying out the techniques used here.  They are a little different than what I have seen before, but if they work it will be a lot of fun.

Besides, the best chocolate chip cookie I have ever had anywhere was a gluten free chocolate chip cookie at the Catarina de' Medici restaurant. 

I know I can't reproduce everything I had before, and I don't even want to, somethings are best remembered for the perfection that they are.

I can remember churros in Madrid.  There will be no more churros.  But I can still have the huge cup of coffee.  And there are plenty of indulgences I can have.  

I can hold on to the memories of eating croissants at the little cafe near our little hideaway hotel in Paris, and although I will miss the croissants I am happy to have the memory.  Besides I can still go to Ladurée, or better yet, Pierre Hermé, for macarons.  Now that is a real treat, and something to look forward to.  And I can make macarons at home as well.  I have done it before, but not recently.  

I admit that I have been lusting after Pierre Hermé's new book, Macaron for a few months now.  I wish we were going to Paris, so that I could eat a macaron at the source and buy the book as well.  I have tried every kind of search I can think of, and I can't find an online vendor that will sell the book and ship it to the United States.    I don't mind having the book in French, but it looks like I will have to wait and hope that there will eventually be an English translation just so that I can get a copy.

As for avoiding gluten, there are far worse fates. Besides how can it be so bad to say I can only eat the best foods, the ones with pure ingredients, without additives, prepared in places where the chefs care about the food they prepare for their clients?  

I believe I mentioned something about a plague. . . .

Or,

When is Plantar Fasciitis not Plantar Fasciitis?

A little over a week ago, on a Tuesday to be exact, I developed pain in my right foot.  I hobbled around, used a cane, used crutches (doesn’t everyone keep crutches.) It got better, it got worse.  Walking became impossible. 

I called my doctor.  He told me to see the group PA, who poked my foot in the plantar fascia, turned my ankle over, tested my motion, ordered x-rays and declared I had plantar fasciitis.  Told me to take Ibuprofen.

There is a certain genetically programmed part of my psyche which I call  “the good German”.  The doctor said take Ibuprofen, I had no ibuprofen in my house so I bought Ibuprofen.  I took Ibuprofen. It took 36 hours of constant reflux to realize that Ibuprofen and I are not compatible. 

I got better.

Then I got worse, much worse, almost as if I were being punished for getting better without taking my Ibuprofen.

My feet swelled, but not just in the plantar fascia.  In fact the plantar fascia declined to play in this game of “where does the swelling go next”.  My ankles swelled and hurt.  The areas above and below my knees swelled up and turned varying shades of red.  By hands and wrists became hot and inflamed.  I could not use my hands.  I could not sleep because of the pain in my hands.  I could not use crutches because my hands refused to cooperate. 

I tried Ibuprofen. “Gotcha” said the reflux demon.   Twelve agonizing hours later I tried aspirin.  I have always taken aspirin.  Aspirin and I get along easily together.  No reflux.  Somewhat less pain, reduced to major annoyance level. 

Once again I was referred to the PA.  The thought of my taking Aspirin gives the PA apoplexy.  He recommends some new fangled kind of Tylenol.  Some part of me is rather annoyed at the PA so “the good German” is shoved back down into the recess of my mind and I do not go to the drugstore to buy new-fangled Tylenol.  Better stick with my old friend, aspirin. Mr. PA has no other treatment recommendations despite the fact that my lips on the left side of my mouth had quadrupled in volume, my left cheek was swollen, and my left eyelid twitched.

It was decided that I was having an adverse reaction to a Bisphosponate  that was recently prescribed.  I was told to discontinue it, although the next dose was not to be for another five days. He also ordered a Lyme Test but I doubted I had Lyme: First I was involved in the Lymerix study, had all three shots without any side effects and I think the vaccine has a good prevention rate.  Second, I haven’t been bitten by a tick since the LAST Lyme test (the problem with living in an area with a high incidence of Lyme disease is every time something hurts or swells, everyone thinks it is Lyme.) Thirdly, I always practice good tick prevention techniques when I am working outdoors. Lastly, the new medication seemed more likely, especially since joint inflammation is a known side-effect, and I had only recently started taking it.

The eyelid twitch and lip swelling went away but nothing else got better.  I crawled to bed one night.  One night I scooted across on the house on my bum, eager to just try to hold on to enough fortitude to get by until this nastiness was out of my system.

…

It got worse.

Two days later my throat swelled during the night and I could not swallow easily, although I could breathe easily enough.  By morning half of my tongue had also swollen and I could barely talk.  I had more trouble swallowing but could still breathe.

This time my doctor’s office did not refer me to the PA.

After the triage nurse asked to see my tongue she immediately called over another nurse, said she was taking me to room X, ushered me into a wheelchair and whisked me away.  They had IV steroids and Benadryl going before G even got back from the valet parking.

I spent a good part of today in the hospital.  I can’t recall when I was so happy to be there. 

Next time I go to the hospital I will get a pretty little red bracelet to go with the white ID bracelet.

And the hospital parking garage was full.  The valet parked G’s car on the street, not at all unusual, but apparently someone side-swiped it when driving by and crushed his side view mirror.

Sometimes too much is never enough.

The current obsession

Summer is always cooking time in this house, even when there is no actual cooking going on because we are dining on salads.  Fresh produce abounds and it difficult not to be excited about food. This year however, the emphasis on food, and most certainly the time spent on food, has been considerably greater than in the past.  I spend hours planning menus and revising recipes, checking nutrition information.  It seems like I am always planning what to eat or cooking it.

But the effort seems to have paid off.

First a little history:

I have Celiac Disease.  I apparently also have Irritable Bowel.  Apparently there are several forms of Irritable Bowel and I do not have the most common varieties as I have neither constipation or diarrhea, just constant, overwhelming volumes of gas and subsequent bloating.  For a long time I felt like the Hindenburg on most days.  I would inflate as the day progressed whether I ate or not. 

My first GI Guy, the one who doesn’t believe I have celiac but always believed I had irritable bowel, is no help.  He tells me that “you can’t eat anything anyway” and to take fiber supplements.  But fiber supplements make the gas worse.  I gain two pounds and four inches through the waist.  I am always uncomfortable.  I become depressed.  I eat even though it does not make me feel better, because I feel bad even if I don’t eat. 

I find another doctor who refers me to another doctor and a nutritionist.    Yes I do have Celiac Disease.  Yes I do have Irritable Bowel.  I probably always had both but it is possible the celiac masked the irritable bowel and protected me from the worst of it’s symptoms. 

My goal is to change my diet to get as much fiber as possible without taking fiber supplements and without eating wheat bran, or oat bran, or the other common sources of fiber because I am celiac and can’t eat them.  Apparently there are one or two fiber supplements I might try, that are less likely to cause gas and bloating, but I should only take them in moderation. This might be good to know when we travel again, because I see myself running around the world with apples and carrots and stopping in markets all along the way.

I immediately feel better.  I no longer feel like a hot air balloon.  Vegetables and beans do not make me gassy.   I lose 3 pounds and 5 inches around the waist the first week.

The diet begins on a very limited note, but expands to include most food.   The secret seems to be getting a good bit of natural vegetable fiber with every meal.  I learn to love vegetables.  Well, I always loved vegetables and fruit, but now I love them more.  I begin to think about and enjoy food in an entirely different way.  It is a lot more work, to plan these menus.  But I am beginning to get a feeling for what to eat. 

I download the USDA nutrition tables to my recipe program. I start cooking more.  At first I just ate apples and simple proteins. Then I added simple steamed and raw vegetables.  After a couple of weeks I could start adding dairy, starches, and more meats.  I still feel good.    My taste buds begin to change.  Processed foods don’t taste as good as I remember.  I eat a lot.  It takes a lot of broccoli or other vegetables to get 40 grams of fiber a day. I go grocery shopping a couple of times a week because I can’t fit all the vegetables I eat into the refrigerator.  People stop me and ask if we havy company, then marvel that G and I eat all that food just between the two of us.  I am full at the end of the day and can’t bear to eat more.  But I am eating fewer calories.

After 5 weeks I feel loads better.  I no longer have constant gas and bloating.  I have more energy.  I have lost 13 pounds. I don’t know how much more weight I will loose, or even if I will  lose any more but it is likely.  By analyzing the nutrition values of all I eat I learn that this diet high in vegetables and green leafy vegetables especially is more than providing all the vitamins and minerals I need in a day, except perhaps calcium.  I drop all the vitamins except the calcium supplement.  I can probably add a little more yoghurt or cheese into my diet and eliminate another pill.

Best of all, I can still indulge my love of cooking and eating.  I don’t have to eat food that tastes like  “health food” although we are eating a lot more Asian dishes.

Pork and Noodle pot with turnips.  Thinly sliced pork loin, fresh rice noodles cooked with turnip greens and steamed Japanese turnips. A sweet and spicy cucumber salad on the side.

Chicken breast baked with broccoli raab, turnip greens, and goat cheese.  Beets on the side.  G had potatoes as well but I actually ate more beets than are pictured, by which point I was far to full to enjoy a potato. Beets seem to be a very happy food, too bad they really aren’t portable.