Why?

You probably have two why's in your head right now. One is likely, what do you mean when you say get healthy? And the other, understandably, would be why are you doing it in a public forum for anyone to find? I'm assuming mostly my friends and family are reading this. That's a partial answer to question number two. The other part being, my hope is this will help keep me accountable and to track my progress-God let's hope there's progress!

The answer to question number one is a bit more complicated. If you are a friend or family member, you probably know bits and pieces and can understand why I feel the need to "get healthy". If you don't know me, and were to see me on the street you'd say to yourself "Hey, that woman looks really really healthy! What is she talking about? Does she have that body dismorphic disorder thing I hear tell about, or is she a hypochondriac or some crap like that?" Yes, thankfully my family comes from the deeper end of the genetic pool. Due to that, I am lucky to have a high metabolism (double edged sword if you're jealous.), a good amount of energy even on a bad day, and I apparently look anywhere from 7-10 years younger than I am, depending on who you ask.

That's all great stuff, and I'm thankful for it. But know what? I am sick! You can't see it, and if you didn't know, well, you wouldn't know. But I am unwell. That is something I would like to change, and that is the short answer to question number one. Don't understand? Should we start at the start then? I think so. Settle in. I may be young, but my medical history is stupid long.

I understand the incubation period of my life was pretty uneventful, aside from the fact that my dad liked to put a hot cup of coffee on my mom's belly so I'd kick it. My mother did smoke. No judgment, she has always done her best for me. Asking an addict to quit smoking is asking a lot. She only just recently succeeded and I'm very proud of her for it. As a consequence of this smoking however, I was a bit underweight and, related or not, I was orange. They stuck me in an incubator until that went away and that was that. Otherwise I was a very healthy baby. Bet you didn't think I really meant at THE start did you?

Anyway, when I was about 18 months old we moved across the country to a beach community in SoCal, where my father is from. Shortly thereafter, my parents became a statistic and got divorced. My mother and I moved in with my paternal grandmother. Yes, that would be my father's mother, but I think that's an entirely different story. My grandma had grown up in California, and her eating reflected it. I remember guacamole and grapes and lemonade made from the lemon tree in Grandma's back yard. It wasn't all wholesome. I also remember spaghetti-o's with meatballs. But for the most part, good healthy stuff. I was a bouncy, energy filled kid.

 Eventually my mother and I moved into our own home, but life in California gets really expensive for a single mother. We ended up moving in with my maternal grandmother. She was from Tennessee. Her eating reflected it too. I remember hot dogs and coffee cakes and ding dongs. I also remember raspberries from our backyard, so at least there was that. I became a pudgy, less energy filled child.

I eventually became a fat, unhappy kid. Yes, fat. I remember at 10 years old I was 110 lbs. I am 32 (nearly 33), probably nearly a foot taller, and I weigh 115 lbs. So yeah, fat kid. I never felt "good". I had no energy. I was depressed. Did I mention no energy? Kids seem to be programmed to have a near infinite amount of energy, and all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and watch Thunder Cats (awesome show). I also had developed what we assumed was dandruff. We'll get to that later.

At twelve, my mother and I moved to the middle of nowhere in the high desert area of California. This was a blessing in many ways for my health. We moved to, for lack of a better word, a ranch. My mother had started a job as a caretaker for a family friend's elderly mother. This family had horses and buffalo. I was tasked with helping to care for these huge animals. I carried bales of hay and shoveled horse poo. Not pleasant, but if you're looking for a great upper body workout...it's an option! This was the summer before I began 7th grade. I don't know how much weight I lost, but my mom did have to buy me new jeans. They were a size 7. I think with today's vanity sizing those jeans would have been a size 9 or so. A size 9 at twelve.

 Remember I said we moved to the middle of nowhere? Not even kidding. The bus stop for school was at the top of the ravine. we lived on a plateau in the middle of said ravine. It was probably about 1/4 of a mile away. Not super duper far. Unless you're walking THROUGH A RAVINE. That meant down a little hill, then walking on flat surface for a bit, but mostly it meant walking up the side of a flippin ravine. Guess what? Yep, mom had to buy me size 5 jeans not too long after I started school.

For reasons I won't get into, at the end of my 7th grade year, my mother and I moved to Arkansas. I remained at that point pretty healthy, even started on my school's drill team (that would be the cheerleaders that dance if you don't know) the following year, so I was pretty active and felt pretty good. Most of the time. I had developed some tummy troubles. These days you'd call it IBS. I just called it inconvenient, uncomfortable, and potentially embarrassing. Thankfully, it was not frequent. It also seemed to be tied to my lady times, and my lady times were less than fun, even without IBS. Oh, and my scalp was getting worse...but we're still not there yet.

 In 9th grade, I got my first spot. No, not a pimple. A pink patch of scaly skin. On my face! My. Face. 9th grade is not the best time for random pink scaly patches to appear on a girl's face. It was determined to be eczema. Hydrocortizone was the answer. Never seemed to work, but that was the answer!

Around this time I also decided to become a vegetarian. I love ALL the animals! So it was a moral choice rather than a health based one. My weight at this point was totally under control, and had been since the end of 7th grade. So I wasn't worried about any sort of health benefit. My genes were finally expressing their high metabolism! Though I'm sure all the dancing I was doing didn't hurt.

Things went on as pretty much status quo for a long time. Until I was 19. Nothing got better or worse until then. Except instead of being overweight, I was now 94 lbs. Without trying. My lady times had at some point become extremely light. No complaints there! I had also given up being a vegetarian a couple years earlier. I'd had this insane craving for ham for two weeks. I finally decided if my body was so insistent that I needed ham, well, I must really need some ham. That was the end of that. I did however only eat meat on occasion. Most of the time it was pasta, pasta, and oh, how about some pasta with chicken?

I had a little, cute mole on my chest. Seriously, it was cute! Then it decided to not be cute anymore and to start being ugly. So I went to the doctor. They didn't really want to remove it, but rolled their eyes and did it to shut me up and to prove to me when the results came back that they know everything and that I was stupid and paranoid. Guess what?! No not cancer. Not quite anyway. "severe atypia, unclear boarders, blah blah blah." So, my cute little mole had thoughts of maybe killing me someday in the distant future. But yay me and my stubbornness. Hussy-1 Pompous Doctor-0. I had to go to a dermatologist to have it re-excised (that's a fancy way of saying that the unclear boarders meant they had to cut me up a bit more to make sure it was all out).

I felt betrayed by my own body. I felt a little frightened. The big thing I got out of the experience however was that not all doctors are there to look out for you. Had I let the doctor bully me into NOT removing that no longer cute mole, I don't know if I'd be here or not. I seriously don't. And he seriously did try to bully me. For the record, Doctor that tried to bully me-You're a dick. You went to medical school and apparently all you got was that stupid piece of paper. You think that piece of paper means you know everything, and allows you to push people around when they don't agree. I wonder how many illnesses and how much death has been caused by your arrogance.

Back to my story. Since I had the realization that not all doctors are in it for more than money, I decided I had better look out for myself. Become informed and all that jazz. The only way to avoid big bad doctors was to be healthy! I knew I was not the picture of health. What with me being 94 lbs and light lady times and all. I got some books on nutrition and poured over them. I was doing everything right! Me with my pasta and occasionally pasta with chicken. I did eat other things, but that really was the biggest part of my diet. These books told me though that I could really stand to supplement. So you better believe I did. This gave me a false sense of security, and I actually started eating more meat. I started feeling better too! Thanks supplements! So I started eating more crap food. I finally got up to 104 lbs (the minimum "healthy" weight for a woman of my frame and height) too. All was good. Except my damn scalp, spots, and IBS.

I had a fairly high stress job (and I will not lie, I'm a little on the easily stressed side) and had a mini nervous breakdown. I quit my job and started working at a salon, with the intention of going to esthetics school-something I'd always wanted to do. I was still dabbling in nutrition, and the newest, bestest thing to catch on in supplementation was fish oil. Everything said fish oil was super wonderful. So hells yes, you know I started taking some fish oil! And I did feel better. My spots, which had been getting worse in spite of all my supplementation, started to reverse course. I was sold. Status quo again set in.

I started esthetics school about a year or so later. I learned a ton about health while in school. Most of the other women were very health minded as well, and we all traded our have you tried this, that, and the other stories. Because of this interaction, I believe I got even more healthy. I also started hearing about how gluten was maybe not good for everyone. I'd already moved away from my pasta based life to a Chipotle restaurant life. Chicken burrito bowl, black beans, guac and sour cream. NO RICE PLEASE. Rice is gross. I've never liked it (or potatoes-blech!). So, I patted myself on the back for having given up pasta. Never mind my flour tortillas, or the english muffin at breakfast...

Fast forward a few years. I'm working at a job I like. Things are good. Life is good. I am not. I feel like, well, shit. Yes. I feel like shit. I'm seriously starting to contemplate this whole "gluten thing". I've found an awesome doctor that actually cares about how the people who give him money are feeling. Well, you already know how I was feeling. IBS was waaaaaay worse. I'd taken to carrying around pepto tabs just in case. Everywhere. Spots? Yeah...they were all over me. Face, back, chest, legs, arms. You name it. They hurt :( And they were bigger than they'd ever been. I was depressed. For no reason. Again, job I liked, and life was all around good. The "dandruff" was acting just like my spots too. Ouchie! I'd broken my wrist at 8, and now anytime it was going to rain or snow, my wrist hurt like a mo fo. Sinus infections were a regular thing for me. I was also suffering from chronic severe anemia (and forever in trouble with this new doctor because of it). Oh, and have I mentioned migraines? I got my first one at 12, but hadn't had another until this time in life. Maybe a year or so before really. But they were infrequent and manageable as long as Excedrin Migraine was within reach. Excedrin Migraine was no longer working. WTF?! So I go to the doctor. It went something like this:

Me-"Hi. I feel bad. There's the this, and the this, and the that. Oh, and this and this are worse, and now I've got this thing too. I'm wondering if I have a gluten issue? I read/overheard/maybe made this up entirely that it can do all kinds of bad stuff to people. I seriously don't remember where that information came from. Do you think it could be the problem?"

Doctor-"Ok, maybe. Lets do some blood work. I'll test you for Celiac, and we'll run some other autoimmunity tests too."

Me-"Cool"

Soooo, blood work comes back. No celiac! No Lupus! No freakin red blood cells! So that's an exaggeration of course, but my anemia was worse than ever. So I say something like, you know what Doctor? I think I'm going to try this gluten free thing anyway. He's cool with it, wants me to keep him posted on how I'm doing after a month.

Now that I've made this decision to give it a try, I realize gluten is in everything. Like, every, single, thing. That's how many things it's in. The thing you're thinking about eating? It sure is full of gluten. Where the hell do I even begin?! I may give up before I step foot over the start line. Thankfully, I have a friend at work that DOES have Celiac (of course, not thankfully for her-sucks for her! Her prediagnosis days put my medical history to shame). She's been gluten free for years. She loves food (she actually loves food so much she blogs about it...breakfastatbanjo's at the blogspot place is all her). She turns out to be a godsend for me. I do not know how well I would have done, or how far I would have come on this journey without her. So very helpful, you don't even know. I remain extremely grateful to her.

First week. Dude, I lost 5 lbs! I didn't need to, nor was I trying to. But that's how inflamed my body was. That 5 lbs was not fat, it was water. It was water my body was holding onto to try to protect itself from the gluten monster. AND AND AND! I'm not sad! Nor am I exhausted when I get home.

After a month, my IBS is substantially better. Not gone. Haven't yet given up my pink box of safety, but the bouts are less frequent. My spots? Yeah, still there. They don't hurt as much though, and now are less of a strawberry red, and more of a "I just couldn't wait for the scab to fall off on it's own any longer so I pulled it off" pink. Guys, this is a big improvement. I still hate my spots, don't get me wrong on that front. Migraines are much less frequent, and my wrist is mostly normal. All signs point to gluten is not my friend.

 My doctor is super happy with my progress, and declares me "non Celiac gluten intolerant". But I'm still very anemic. Switched to a new-gluten free-liquid iron supplement. Oh wow, stairs no longer wind me! 2 months after the gluten free experiment began, with the change to my iron supplement, I have all the red blood cells a girl could want! Ummm, that also fixed my lady time issues. I know, you were worried. So we move onto the issue of my spots. My doctor decides to send me to a dermatologist. Guess the flippin fraggin what?! It's not eczema. It's psoriasis! And guess what else? It's not dandruff. It's psoriasis! Fuck man. Something new to read up on. You know I did too. Guess another what? People with psoriasis often are gluten intolerant or full blown Celiac. Rude. Good thing I went gluten free! That was about 2 years ago.

Fast forward to this past summer. I've STILL got my spots! They're fewer, and aren't as ugly or as painful as they were before I went GF, but they're still there. I still hate them, and they're still embarrassing. I went nearly an entire year without a migraine. I guess that was 364 days too long. Migraines started coming back with a vengeance. If rain or snow is in the forecast, I'd know if that meteorologist was a liar or not before anyone else. When the barometric pressure changed, my brain tried to force itself out of my head. Thankfully, Excedrin Migraine was magic again. Until it wasn't.

Excedrin migraine stopped being magic about 6 weeks ago. I have had a near continual headache for 6 weeks that on some days flares to an actual migraine that comes close to kicking my ass up and down the pitch. I've never had visual auras before (the flashing lights people sometimes talk about with migraine), but I had my first one 6 weeks ago.

Now, let me explain how my migraines feel. As best I can anyway. And let me be very clear here, I am glad I get the kind of migraine that I do. Why? Because I can still function (albeit at a fairly low level!). I do not throw up (most of the time, even if I want to), I do not have to hide in a dark and quiet room and pray for sleep or death. There are many people that suffer with migraine that would envy what I go through. I do not envy them at all :( Alrighty. My first hint that one is on the way is the back of my neck starts to hurt and the muscles stiffen. Then the back of my neck gets hot. If you were to touch the back of my neck, you would feel it is measurably warmer than the rest of me when this happens. The heat then spreads over the top of my head and down to my forehead. If I haven't taken something by now, I am SOL. Full migraine will be unavoidable. Next thing that happens is my throat starts to feel as if I've caught the flu. In fact, most of the beginnings of my migraines of late feel like I've caught the flu. Fever and all. If my migraine is really bad, I do have to go home (if I'm not there already-I've had a migraine 5 out of the last 6 weekends-in addition to the ones I experience at work) and go to bed. Because the pain is exhausting more than anything else, and I just need to sleep through it. The pain is like the entire brain is simultaneously being squeeeeezed by a very large hand while attempting to double in size. This very large hand may or my not be hot. My expanding brain thankfully is never hot. Only fighting to be bigger. It does not seem to realize that my skull is the size it is, and that size is not changeable since my plates knit themselves together quite some time ago. While all this is happening, I am wishing to throw up. But usually I don't get to. I just have to deal with the nausea. My upper back also starts to ache and get hot, and my skin may or may not feel like someone rubbed sandpaper all over it (usually my arms). Who wouldn't want all that right?

 I almost forgot about the forest due to all the damn trees here. A couple weeks ago, when I was having some downtime at work, I was on stumbledupon (looooooove it). It stumbled me onto an article that heavily quoted this guy Robb Wolf. It was about leaky gut. That is exactly what it sounds like it is. I was well aware of leaky gut due to my IBS issues. I then thought of something my wonderful Celiac friend told me after visiting a nutritionist that specialized in helping GF people. She'd been told to try taking rather large doses of the amino acid L-Glutamine to heal her tum-tum. I had a light bulb! Even though my IBS is no more, MY tum-tum could still be sad too! But why?! I'm strict about being GF, though at times I do feel glutenated. Maybe there's something I'm just not picking up on here.

 This Robb Wolf guy turns out to be one of those "Paleo" people. You know, the people that want us to eat like cavemen and never have a cupcake ever, ever again? I've been aware of the paleo people for a while, and have always thought there was no real flaw to what they were doing nutrition wise. Other than the no cupcake. That's messed up. I know cupcakes are in no way nutritious. But they are delicious! And that makes me happy. Happy is important...don't ask me to get into the scientific reasons as to why cupcakes, and other super sugary deliciousness makes you happy. Because I know. And I will get all kinds of nerd-girl-who-always-did-well-in-biology on you. And you will never look at me the same. Cupcakes DO make you happy. Problem is, then they make you sad. One then ignores the sad by having another cupcake. Don't judge. Your pasta does the same thing, but it's not nearly as awesome as a cupcake, cupcake.

 Now I've got paleo on the brain. No grains? Hmmm. What will I make GF cupcakes from then? What about my GF bread? And my corn tortilla chips for my Qdoba nacho binge? I won't be having those if I delve too deeply into this idea. But I'm sick. I'm still sick. I'm much less sick than I was before I went GF, but damn it, I AM SICK! And I'm sick of being sick. Are cupcakes and bread and corn chips worth it? Sigh, no. No they're not. So about a week after I read this leaky gut article, I order his "stupid" book. I finished that book in 1 day. It would have been half a day, but I had a migraine.

Remember that I'm a nerd-girl-who-always-did-well-in-biology? Damned if he didn't know that about me and tell me all the science and give me citations and everything! What a jerk! Speaking to my logic like that. Even worse, throwing my favorite of all sciences-anthropology-at me. That was low! Now I have to try this paleo thing, and all because he has his freakin science and stuff to back him up. Doesn't hurt that he's been right where I am either. Speaking from a place of experience is just as important to me as speaking from a place of "official" knowledge.

 Now I've actually answered question number one! Not that you've read this far-I don't blame you. I did really start at the start. Bottom line is this: I'm sick. I'm sick of being sick. Gluten free has changed my life tremendously, but it has not been enough to heal me. So I'm going to try being Paleo for a month. I'm going to write about it here. It will help keep me accountable, and it will help me track my progress (or lack there of if that ends up the case. I suspect it won't be though). You can read about it or not. This is really for me. I start in 3 days!