Celiac Is a Lot. Good Friends Help.

This was a big weekend for me in my celiac journey.

I ate a pizza.

From a restaurant.

I feel like I deserve a trophy.

And yes, I am aware that this probably sounds ridiculous to anyone who doesn’t have celiac disease.

But if you have celiac, you know.

Eating food prepared by someone else is an EVENT.

And I ate a pizza.

From a restaurant.

And I lived to tell the tale.

Now, I will say that my stomach felt some things afterward.

But – and this is where having celiac disease becomes incredibly fun – I have absolutely no idea why.

Because the day I ate the pizza was also the day I started taking Zicam for a cold. Which, in hindsight, was probably not the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I later learned that oral zinc products can cause gastrointestinal irritation, and apparently my stomach did not need another thing to be mad about while it’s already trying its darndest to recover from years of celiac-related damage.

All that to say: welcome to one of the most fun aspects of this disease.

The “Why Does My Tummy Hurt?” Game.

Was it the Zicam?

Was it the pizza?

Was it something else I ate?

Is it because I’m in my luteal phase?

Was it just a random Tuesday?

WHO KNOWS.

I guess the only way I’ll ever really know what my specific gluten symptoms look like is after I’ve had time to heal and, hopefully, have a much better baseline for comparison.

But I don’t want to get glutened just to conduct an experiment.

So for now, the mystery remains.

But Then I Went to Book Club.

And y’all.

My friends are amazing.

We meet at a winery, which I should probably mention I currently attend as a very glamorous non-drinker.

I’m not drinking right now because I’m giving my stomach some time to heal. Who knows if I’ll dabble in the libations again someday, but for now, my wine glass is mostly decorative.

Everyone brings a snack to share.

I made a curried chicken salad because I wanted to make sure I had something healthy, filling, and completely safe for me to eat.

And then these book club girlies showed up and SHOWED OUT.

I’m talking charcuterie with nothing but Nut Thins and other gluten-free crackers.

Hummus with gluten-free pretzels.

Gluten-free brownies.

Peach crisp.

A lovely cucumber chickpea salad.

Caprese.

These women had apparently decided that I was going to EAT.

And I didn’t ask them to.

I didn’t send a list.

I didn’t explain what I could and couldn’t eat.

I didn’t have to make anyone think about it.

They just did it.

They love me. They really love me.

And that meant more to me than I think they realized.

The Beautiful Parts of Celiac

I don’t like feeling like a burden.

I don’t like feeling needy.

And I definitely don’t like being the person who has to say, “Sorry, I can’t eat that.”

There is something really vulnerable about having your food needs become someone else’s consideration.

But sometimes people surprise you.

Sometimes they don’t see your dietary restrictions as an inconvenience.

Sometimes they simply think, “Our friend can’t eat gluten. Let’s make sure she has plenty of things she can eat.”

No big announcement.

No fuss.

No making me feel different.

Just love, in the form of gluten-free brownies and pretzels.

Celiac disease has taken some things from me.

There are foods I can’t casually eat anymore. Restaurants require more thought. Every meal comes with a little bit of mental math. And sometimes I genuinely have no idea why my stomach hurts.

But there are also these moments.

The friends who check labels.

The people who learn what cross-contact means.

The family members who make sure there’s something safe on the table.

The friend who remembers.

The book club that accidentally turns a dietary restriction into a table full of food you can actually eat.

These things don’t make celiac disease easy.

But they make it a little less lonely.

And when I really think about it. That’s a beautiful thing.