I fully anticipated writing a post entitled The NAET Experience: Gluten Allergy to follow the post on my NAET B-complex experience. There was a little problem, though. The whole thing would have read something like this:
For 25 hours I avoided gluten. That meant that I ate…just what I always eat. Except for the fact that I avoided my body lotion that contains oat-derived beta-glucan, everything else was EXACTLY THE SAME.
Pretty boring, don’t you think? Yeah, I thought so, too.
After the 25-hour gluten avoidance period ended, I returned to my practitioner who re-checked me for gluten allergy. Apparently, the allergy had cleared from my system. I was…fine.
I bet you’d like to know if it worked, wouldn’t you? Yeah, so would I. I’ve been afraid to test it.
You’d think I’d be raring to go here, running out to buy freshly baked wheat bread from one of our fine local bakeries or maybe just chowing down on some oatmeal. But after living gluten-free for eight months and predominantly wheat-free for the past nine years, well, testing the waters feels a little scary.
When you’ve abstained from something for so long—because you thought it was bad for your health—how do you just start eating it again? How do you not be afraid of it?
When I went wheat-free, I pretty much knew it was giving me problems. During the preceding years, I’d started maxing out my tolerances to certain foodstuffs. Wheat was just the next thing on the list. When a practitioner recommended I go off it, I readily agreed. (This was part of a food sensitivity diet I undertook nine years ago, in which I removed 50 foods from my diet for two months. Since I noticed significant improvements in my health, I chose to stay off many of the foods.)
Having grown up in a bread-loving family, the progeny of wheat farmers on my father’s side, it was a big deal to give up bread. Bread represented family, sharing, nurturing, love. I could no longer break bread with my sisters without worrying how I’d feel afterward. I missed wheat.
Over time, I got used to the wheat-free products, though some of the new flavors were definitely an acquired taste. I quickly became addicted to Grindstone Bakery’s fresh wheat-free breads. At the time, they were not available in the East Bay. So every couple of weeks I’d go on a bread run and drive the 11 miles over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco to Rainbow Grocery or, as part of a nice day trip, up to either a Marin County Whole Foods or Good Earth Natural Foods in Fairfax to get my Grindstone fix. (Now there’s a desperate bread-lover for you!)
Once in a while, I’d have “bread holidays.” I’d indulge in a little bit of wheat or sourdough bread, a handful of crackers, a cookie, scone or croissant. Nothing major. I didn’t think it was a big deal.
And then a couple of my smarty-pants health practitioners started encouraging me to go gluten-free. I refused. I didn’t think I was having problems with things like Kamut, oats, and barley (though too much spelt or rye did give me stomachaches). I was tired of messing with my diet, tired of my food world getting smaller. I dug in my heels and stuck with my breads. And then—Oh Tragedy!—I had an anti-gliadin antibody test as part of a cortisol test, and the results showed a mild intolerance to gluten. Bummer. My denial fantasy was over.
I also started to realize that wheat had likely been interfering with my mental health, perhaps for a long time. My “bread holidays” seemed to be followed by a few days of increased moodiness and depression, along with brain fog, congestion and fatigue. Since my life at the time was challenging enough, I couldn’t afford anything adding to my problems.
So I bit the bullet and went gluten-free. I hated it. I gave up my beloved 6-ingredient breads for 12-ingredient breads that were nowhere near as satisfying or pleasing to my palate. (I ask you: How can a bread with a bunch of weird ingredients added to it be better for you than fresh whole-grain bread that’s naturally and lovingly prepared? It makes no sense!)
Did I feel better going gluten-free? No. My gut, sensitive since childhood, behaved no differently, and I noticed no improvements in my health. The only difference was that eating these new gluten-free breads had me feeling a whole lot grumpier.
To make matters worse, suddenly everywhere I went, people were either telling me about the evils of gluten and its inflammatory properties or regaling me with stories about the dramatic health improvements they experienced upon going gluten-free. Now I felt grumpy, paranoid about gluten, and jealous. Hrrmmph.
Eventually, I got used to the gluten-free breads (though I’m still not crazy about them). I found Café Mariposa (a completely gluten-free bakery) and their multi-grain bread. And then I decided to start forking over the bucks for Grindstone’s gluten-free bread, a hearty favorite. (By the way, no one said going gluten-free was cheap! Good grief! Try being a gluten-free bread lover on a budget!)
So after all that, I’m supposed to just go out and eat…wheat? Oats? Barley? Kamut? I’m supposed to risk my gut (and possibly my mental health) for…bread?
After the NAET allergy clearing, as much as I wanted to go buy one of Grindstone’s oat-barley breads, I held off. When I saw my practitioner a few days later, I asked her what the best course of action would be. She recommended that I try a little something, then wait three days to see how I felt before eating any more.
Okay. “A little something” sounds like…Nairn’s Stem Ginger Oat Biscuits. I used to eat these gingery oat cookies all the time, and I despaired when I had to give them up. One little oat cookie seems a reasonable way to break the gluten fast, right?
Still, I’ve got to wonder: If I have some kind of reaction to the cookie, will it be due to the gluten or my fear of it? If I’m nervous about eating gluten, how can that not have an impact on my digestion of it?
When we’re afraid of something or think it’s bad for us, we tend to resist it, contract against it. That’s not good for any part of the body, especially not the gut. Can I somehow convince my body-mind that after eight months of abstinence (or, in the case of wheat, the better part of nine years), gluten is no longer a problem? If I eat an oat cookie or a piece of glutinous bread and my pulse starts to race or my belly starts to swell, will it be due to sensitivity or my gut reacting to something that I’m afraid of?
Is there really any way to know the difference?
I don’t know. But I’m going to eat that cookie anyway.
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
It’s too bad you can’t stay off the stuff. If it was bad in the past, seems it’s still bad. Let your gut be the judge, I suppose. Having eliminated various foods after a cancer diagnosis, I know it can be hard; then I found things I really love and feel less deprived. Some sugar items are hard to resist but that’s just the food cancer loves. It reminds me of Weight Watchers though, over time I just got used to saying ‘no’ to many things, then it becomes a habit. So you can develop good habits as well as bad ones. This is a revelation in a culture of bad habits, and damn proud of ‘em . . .