Monday, June 24, 2013

Post #106: Dispatch from the land of produce

Warning: excessive amounts of produce consumption may cause intermittent vegegasms.
*Side note: it's just salad, lady. CALM DOWN. Don't overexcite yourself  before the main course. 
So! 

When last we left off, I was embarking on a shiny new diet. Two weeks in, I can now confidently report: 

1.) I have eaten more vegetables in the last few weeks than in the last few YEARS-combined. 
2.) There is no food that I wouldn't give up, or no new food I wouldn't try, in service of feeling better. 
3.) My digestive system is confused. 

Has this diet magically solved all of my digestive problems? Alas, no. Has it helped to lessen some of my symptoms? Yes. Is my AAC pleased with this change in routine? Not so much. 

I did pull kind of a bait and switch on my colon-one day it was all white bread and Gatorade, and literally the next day it was whole foods and roughage and whole grains and healthy fats and protein. I totally don't blame my AAC for being confused, and expressing this confusion in a variety of digestive complaints. 

For so long, I was afraid to eat these foods-I expected pain and misery and general internal havoc, and there has been some of that. But it was a leap of faith to attempt this diet in the first place, just as much as trying a new medication, and I want to stay the course. I've put in the time and effort, seen some return on that investment, and I don't want to let any symptoms push me back into the warm embrace of processed foods. 

This post is kind of a pep talk for myself-I had a bad day. And part of me wants to curl up in bed with a baguette (why does that sound so dirty?) and a dozen bagels (still kind of dirty) and write off the whole pursuit as a failed attempt, another exercise in dashed hopes and false promises. But even if my stomach hurts, and I'm running to the bathroom, and I want to hurl, at least I'm feeding my body with healthy, beneficial things, instead of snorting wonder bread and still experiencing the exact same issues. 

I know that can't be a bad thing. 

I won't let fear make me backslide, or push me back into my Crohn's rut. Every celery stick, every carrot, every tomato, contributes to the greater good. I have to believe that to keep going. 

Please note that I haven't discontinued any of the medication I'm on-these dietary shenanigans are in addition to many drugs I take on a daily and monthly basis. If this diet were making me feel actively worse all the time, I would seriously reconsider my commitment, but I wasn't feeling so hot on the drug regimen I was on. I'm just looking for more good days than bad, more energy, and the ability to digest produce. Hopefully, the drugs I'm on and the diet I'm trying will work together to make that possible.

the goal: happy plate=happy colon

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Post #105: Dispatches from the land of wheat

This bread is sad, much like my colon. 

I spent over an hour wandering through the aisles of my local hippie mart, stocking up on bags of eight dollar gluten-free cereal and quinoa porridge, wheat free English muffins the weight of hockey pucks, and more produce than I have consumed in the last six months combined. 

I came prepared with double sided lists; I scrutinized each label for offensive additives, valuing purity of ingredients over taste and texture. I circled round and round the bins of dusty flours, spent far too much time choosing nut milks, and was so overwhelmed by the whole process that I didn't even think to head over to the cosmetics section for an impulse purchase (per usual). Exhausted, I loaded my purchases into the car and drove directly to the nearest pizza place. 

As I was somewhat guiltily eating my margarita pizza (sans cheese), I chose to ignore the shiny new wheat free foods banished to the dark corners of the trunk. As I sit here now, head pounding, body flushing, trying to keep said pizza down, three things are abundantly clear: 

1.) I am more afraid of this new diet experiment than I thought
2.) Emotional eating doesn't go away, no matter what your current relationship with food
3.) In some ways, I am more afraid of things changing (despite the possibility of improvement) than things staying the same

Isn't it interesting that when there is stress involved, the body overrides the mind's innate wariness about food and does a face plant into the nearest source of fat and carbs? In this case, food was both the cause of and (temporary, stupid) solution to the problem. Anxiety about changing my diet led me to eat a food with a high likelihood of making me feel like shit (mission accomplished!), all to avoid thinking about the other new foods I will be eating on Monday, which are healthier and probably less likely to make me ill. It's all very confusing. 

To put it another way: I am worried about eating almond butter when I have spent over a year ingesting/injecting a number of powerful immunosuppresents and other scary drugs with page long lists of potential side effects. 

It makes no sense. I know this. 

I could chalk this all up to nervousness about "rocking the boat," of taking any chance at altering the current, relatively stable (or at least predictable) condition of my bowels. I could say that I was worried about placing all of my hope in another plan, when other plans have failed so miserably. I could admit that I worry about making things worse, or messing up my body somehow, though the latter is unlikely. 

Those things are true, but I think the real reason I'm anxious is that this is the first proactive step I've taken beyond my doctor's guidance in quite some time, and as such is an acknowledgment that I want more, from my medicines, from my diet, from my life, from myself. 

It feels risky to not want to settle anymore. 

Especially when I know that more, in whatever form, might not be possible. 

And so tonight, as I try not to hurl, I am going to remind myself that any relative risk is worth any potential benefit. Just like I have to talk myself into trying a new pill, I will talk myself into this. At the very least, all of the new foods sitting benignly on my dining room table, sequestered from the rest of my pantry, are unlikely to give me nigh sweats, high blood pressure, joint pain, or tremors, and there is some comfort in that.