Gluten, Glorious Gluten!

A kingdom of gluten-free opulence lies before us. Everywhere we look, gluten-free scones, breads, pastas, cakes, cookies…and people are eating it up. Even now, as I sit in my neighborhood café, a gluten-free cheesecake taunts me from behind the glass.

No, gluten-free cheesecake, I shall not succumb to your decadent wiles. No, you shall not, cannot, tempt me from my sacred oath, my profound promise, my immortal vow. No. For I will never go gluten-free…again!

It began during my senior year of high school, over ten years ago (oh God, hold me). The pains were chronic and acute. The battle between good and evil was originating from within my intestines, and I, a casualty of war.

At seventeen I became an invalid, crushed between fear and sickness. As the days passed, my physical anguish swelled and my anxieties thrived. I was absent for most of the school year (I saved every excuse pass from that time. You know, for sentimental reasons.) To make matters worse, a myriad of doctors (including psychiatrists) could not determine the cause of my discomfort. An endoscopy provided no answers. Only one possibility materialized in a blood test — celiac disease. Believing this to be the only conceivable culprit, I jumped tummy-first into the gluten-free lifestyle.

In the days of yore, it was impossible to find gluten-free anything, anywhere, and the only options tasted like footwear. Actually, had they managed to capture the shoe’s rustic zest, I would have shouted their attempt at flavor from mountaintops. No, there were no gluten-free cheesecakes then, and there were no cookies or pastas, only sweet, sweet rubber.

Despite what you may think, celiac disease doesn’t stop at food. Gluten, rye and barley are also found in shampoos, lotions, and other inedible products. So at this point in my gluten-free expedition, I’m not only shaking from pizza withdrawal, I’m also spending way too much time in the beauty aisle of CVS. The eternal exploration of ingredients isn’t even the worst aspect of celiac disease. The isolation takes home that prize.

Amid a crowded restaurant I would experience inconceivable loneliness. I was surrounded by smiles, scents, and spaghetti — everyday tormented by forbidden fruits.

One college evening, we dined out for a friend’s birthday. I informed the manager of my allergy. After explaining he had nothing to offer me whatsoever, he took the waiter aside, still within earshot, and said, “Don’t let her eat anything.” (We can’t all be masters of subtly.) So I had a glass of water, and then paid for my friend’s meal.

It was arduous to live off the menu, and I felt little, physical relief to boot. Three years into my gluten-free living, a superior blood test hit the market. With melancholy expectations, I gave a vile. My results arrived a week later. Negative.

For several moments I was planted in disbelief. Three years of my life, a sham. I finally mustered the strength to call my mother, and demanded she order me a calzone. “But I’ve already ordered Chinese,” she said. I offered a less than flowery reply. When I took my first bite…I cried. Hard. Sally Field in Steel Magnolias hard. Gluten, glorious gluten!

It took two more years for my body to return to “normalcy.” The cause of my illness was never discovered, but it wasn’t gluten. As a result I became more social, less apprehensive, and much happier. I could eat anything and everything, and I felt fine.

As the years passed, gluten-free diets became trendy, although celiac disease remained in the shadows. I thought to myself, “You fools! Don’t you know how good you have it?!”

Without celiac disease, there is little point in pursuing the gluten-free diet. With every pound you lose, you also lose essential nutrients. (Grains are good for you; they’re your friends.) But of course, where there’s a trend, a crowd will follow, and just like fad diets before it, its time too shall pass.

It’s easy to take on a gluten-free existence when an escape exists. Celiac sufferers do not have this option. When the fad fades, they will be left in the wake, but at least the gluten-free food is good now! (Even Cheerios can be gluten-free. Cheerios!)

When I bit into that calzone eight years ago, I was mouth deep in euphoria and gratitude. With each bite of gluten I consume, I thank the powers that be for my second chance at food, and think to myself, “never again.”

To my chagrin, I just surrendered to that cheesecake…and it was delicious.