First, the food. I finally went to the allergist to figure out why I cannot get a grip on food. For a long time, specifically since 2009, I’ve been trying to discern which foods rip my stomach apart and which ones don’t. After reading The G-Free Diet, I was sure that gluten was the culprit. I cut out all wheat products the week before Thanksgiving in 2009 and saw a significant improvement in my digestion. I thought I’d figured it out, but over time it’s proven ineffective and I’ve spent a lot of time complaining to Chuck about why I consistently don’t feel well.
Sick of hearing it, he told me last month, “I’m done listening to your complaining. Go to the allergist.” Lovingly, of course.
So I did. She pricked my skin with more than 150 environmental and food allergens. Measured against my body’s reaction to histamine, seventeen different foods showed a reaction. SEVENTEEN.
To discern if any of these seventeen foods are causing my digestion problems, I’m to abstain from them for the next five weeks to see if I feel better. The list includes all nuts except pecans, soybeans, beef, pork, barley, flaxseed, hops, lobster, perch, flounder, white potatoes and tomatoes. Cow’s milk was borderline. To be exact, the report says I am “hypersensitive” to these foods, not allergic. Basically, combine my anxious nature with foods that don’t settle well and you’ve got a recipe for digestion disruption. Good times.
My body did not react to wheat, which I thought was odd at first, but after thinking about it, my decision to take bread and other wheat products out of my diet in 2009 wasn’t altogether crazy. Barley is used often in bread recipes, so I’ll have to check ingredient lists and go from there. For what it’s worth, I ate a donut hole yesterday and it was delicious.
Secondly, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the most fantastic news from the weekend. The Vols beat the Gamecocks in overtime.
We lost our minds and acted like fools. We pulled Jackson out of bed so he could watch the final play. Then, Sunday morning rolled around and Tennessee fans were all:
A bowl game is so close we can taste it. Butch please.