Last week I was diagnosed with a something called Hashimoto’s. Sadly, this is not a version of Kung Fu, nor is it a delicious noodle. It is, in brief a disease where your body attacks your thyroid. There is no “cure”. For many, Hashimoto’s means a life time of taking hormones.
The Dr and the Naturopath prescribed me a bunch of remedies to treat the symptoms, told me to stop eating dairy and gluten and sent me off into the world.
I actually laughed at first. I have a beautiful friend with Hashi’s and she seems to cope fine…I’d be OK too, right? There are lots of food alternatives, these days, right? I actually bounced out of the Dr’s office.
And then I went to the supermarket. Big mistake, huge. I walked past aisle after aisle of food I could no longer eat. The cheese fridges – my favourite part of the supermarket – off limits. The bread and crumpets, the pasta, the beer – off limits. Let the foot stomping begin.
No gluten + no dairy + no sugar + vegetarian = eating air.
That night I ate a packet of chips (crisps) for dinner.
I was not to be comforted by Sarah Wilson’s blog comment that “A lot of fitness instructors and Gen X intelligent, successful women get it”. I don’t care that I have an elitist disease. I want to eat cheese.
It took me a few days to stop acting like a three-year-old and start figuring out what the hell I was going to eat now.
I spoke to my friend and got her firsthand knowledge and recommended reading list.
I started researching “gluten free” recipes.
I spent a crapload at a health shop.
I asked for help from friends who I know have to eat as fussily as I now do.
What to do next? Discover how I can recreate these expensive alternatives. For now, I have to eat, but in the future (when I get my head around this a bit better) I will want to create and innovate. Because a woman cannot live on chips alone.