I watched my mom go to endless doctor’s visits. I observed as her nails grew thin, her hair fell out, her brain half-asleep, limiting her capability of living.
I was aware of her anemia, but I did not know about another disease, and neither did she.
When I was in sixth grade, amidst one of the happiest years of my life, my mom told me that she was diagnosed with celiac disease.
Although I was glad to see my mom’s health slowly improve due to her gluten-free diet, I was sympathetic to my mom and the inevitable obstacles she would have to endure. I never thought that my sympathy would turn into empathy until my mom told me that celiac disease was genetic and that I should get tested.
While considering this news, I reminisced on my consistent stomach problems, my struggle to grow and gain weight and my natural aversion to bread.
After I got tested, I put these thoughts in the back of my head and continued to enjoy my sixth-grade year. Two weeks later, I received the news that would, and will, continually restrict me for the rest of my life.
While in the Braum’s drive-thru with a friend, my mother told me that I had celiac disease. This was not a surprise to me because I had the majority of the symptoms, so I tried to stay positive. However, through the first few years of
maintaining a gluten-free diet, I’ve struggled more and more with celiac disease.
I never realized the importance of gluten in our diet until I was diagnosed. Gluten is everywhere and simply impossible to escape. Regardless of what the ingredients say, I have to stay cautious of my daily diet, including the foods in my own home.
During Christmas break in 2023, I made a bowl of supposed leftover gluten-free pasta. I continued my day, thinking
nothing of it. But within an hour, I was throwing up. Ever since, it seems as if my stomach has become more and more sensitive to gluten.
Not only has celiac disease given me moments of physical pain, but it has also prevented me from feeling comfortable in social situations.
I can barely remember the last time I went out with friends without feeling like a hindrance to their enjoyment.
I often find myself having to skip meals to hang out with friends because there are little to no gluten-free food options. In combination with the skipped meals, my limited food options have made it harder to gain weight, even harder than it was before I was diagnosed.
As I meander through my sophomore year of high school, I continue to deal with these problems. I am forced to spend my days embracing caution, and even sadness, as I work towards an easier life with celiac disease.
I repeatedly question whether the sacrifice for my health is actually worth it, as it seems that my unforgettable sixth-grade year, before I was diagnosed, was the healthiest part of my life.
