Celiac Disease: The Inevitable Bungee Jump
Now, I think most of the human population can be separated into two categories: the bungee-jump-loving adrenaline junkies, and those who pee their pants just thinking of falling down twenty feet. I've shifted in my bungee identity throughout my life, but in the past week I've come to accept that there are some up-and-downs that can't be avoided. Like returning to school after missing a week because of celiac disease complications.
I'm a Type-A personality, so I had already kept up with most of my class work all I while I sat like a couch potato with a nose tube in my house. As I drove up to PLNU on Saturday afternoon, however, butterflies were practicing the tango inside my stomach. As soon as I saw Hendricks Hall, though, I sighed. Because I know I belong here. My dorm mates immediately smothered me in hugs when they saw me and we formed a moving band as we dragged my bags of food and books up the hill, up the stairs, and into my dorm room. It wasn't until I saw my room - Hendricks 234 - that I started to tear up, though.
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| My loving poster! |
Displayed proudly on the door was a sign that reads, "We Miss You Casey!" with dozens of personal messages written on it from girls in the hall. One of my biggest fears as I bonded with an IV and nose tube two weeks ago was that I'd be forgotten. That bonds would form from activities I didn't join, jokes I didn't hear, and talks I didn't participate in. In the hospital, as well as in my house, I felt trapped inside a celiac bubble of IV's, medicine, and homework that drew a line in the beach sand between my hall mates and I. That sign changed everything. After seeing that, I knew I had never left PLNU, if only existing in the thoughts of my friends. Nothing is more powerful than support that destroys the motto "out of sight, out of mind."
I'm not going to lie and say I danced through my first week back. Basically, I crawled through the make-up tests, the regular tests, class work, and social commitments like a turtle with four broken legs and a lazy attitude. Now into my second week, though, I can look back and pat myself on the back. I could've self imploded. I could've given up. But I didn't, with the help of my family, friends, and thousands of motivational messages left on my blog, and now my college experience is taking a turn for the better.
The second day back, I met with the head cook of my school's main cafeteria, Urs. Now, Urs and I had already talked briefly at the start of school, going over my dietary needs and going on a tour of the gluten free areas of the cafe. After living off of salads and minimal protein, though, I knew I needed to change up my routine if my second chance at college would work. That meant switching from eating whatever gluten free trimmings were left to ordering my own specially made, gluten free meals.
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| My first meal - and they've simplest gotten better! |
Compared to grazing, this definitely is the road less traveled by. I email Urs with my food requests the night before and give him the time I will be there to pick it up. Now, I'm also allowed to take food out of the cafeteria, which is usually "illegal" by the school rules. When I grabbed my first pre-ordered meal - baked tilapia with rice and a side salad - multiple feelings battled for supremacy. Relief that I didn't have to scrounge or worry about contamination. Excitement 'cause I got fish while everyone else is stuck with chicken. Hope that these protein-packed meals would act as garlic to the vampire IV's of a future hospital stay.
As I've continued on this plan, though, there have definitely been a few bumps. I can't always eat with my friends because the time my meal will be ready differs from their hunger patterns. I have to choose all my meals, resulting in a slightly repetitive and bland diet. And, I must awkwardly stand in the corner of the caf waiting for my "special" meal - I've become one of "those" people! Yet, I can't complain too much. The food is delicious, I feel safe eating it, and I'm slowly gaining weight. So, two thumbs up from me!
The simplest, best part about this whole journey, though, has been re-finding myself. I'm enjoying food again - savoring the different flavors, treasuring my morning Nutella and nightly treats - but, even more than that, I'm enjoying life again. Two days ago, I ran for the first time since celiac disease stole the reins out of my hands. I was slow and limited on my distance, but free. Yesterday, I applied for a Semester Abroad in London next year. Even if I'm not accepted (which, fingers crossed, won't be the case!), at least I know my health isn't to blame.
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| I'm back. Right where I'm speculated to be. |
Bungee jumping is scary. Putting all your trust in one wire as you experience the highs and the lows, the adrenaline and the fear. I still have my struggles. Sometimes, my stomach still throws a fit, or the workload seems to heavy, and I don't know what I'm going to do. For the first time in months, though, I have moments where I'm completely, absolutely, purely happy.
There's no better high than that.
What keeps you going with celiac disorder? What is your "excessive?" Comment under!
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