We Celiacs have made up our own words. Why, because we can’t eat bread and you gotta have some fun somewhere right? We have invented the verb “Glutened” or some call it “Glutenized” either way it’s definition is – being poisoned by Gluten. Being “Glutened” is really the worse thing ever for a Celiac. It’s always this sneak attack at the least opportune moment. Is there an opportune moment? Not really. But it always seems to happen for me in public when I have a million things to do or no bed to lie in for hours.
Once I was Glutened at the Boston Pizza in Medicine Hat (the entire story is epic so I will share it at another time) and had to drive the whole way home in the passenger seat of the truck with the kids wide eyed and terrified in the back. I was Gutened once during a date night with Trev. We had to go home early with me doubled over and groaning while paying the babysitter. In all my Glutenizing incidents, it was someone else’s fault. There was someone to hold responsible, to shake my fist and write a litany of angry emails to managers informing them of how shitty they are. As a side note, managers usually send gift certificates but will never admit fault. They will offer to poison you again but never risk a law suit. I have never returned to an establishment that poisoned me, fool me once yada yada.
The other day though, I experienced something I have never before. I poisoned myself. Yup, that’s right, I poisoned myself. Have you ever walked into the side of an open door because you somehow didn’t see it or remember that your bedroom had a door? Ever bounce off a screen door in front of strangers? Trip on that last step that your muscle memory forgot was there? Hit your head on the corner of a cupboard that you just opened? Stood there blind with rage and pain, beating the shit out of the cupboard door for getting in your way? Ever felt that stupid? Yes? Excellent. Now, imagine that for 2 days and everyone you know is watching. Yes, that is a self inflicted Glutinizing and its dreadful. The moment word of the Glutenizing comes about, friends start to call, ready to curse the son of a bitch chef that tried to kill me. (Digression – I once had a friend launch a twitter war beyond the likes of General Paton on a restaurant that glutened me….it was a thing of beauty. Shelby rocks.) I have to tell my concerned friends that, nope, it was my own damn self that did it.
This time it was a beef stock that did it. I bought it from one of those house party things and I should have known better than to just tell the lady I was Celiac, pay for something and use it, AND NOT LOOK AT THE INGREDIENTS!! Looking at the ingredients is my thing, it’s what I do I read ingredients on shampoo, nail polish, canned goods, coffee whiteners, anything and everything that goes in my mouth or on my body. Minds out of the gutter you fucking juveniles. . I know that I might be on that “people of walmart” website because I guarantee you; I have stood in my sweats pondering deeply over a pack of gum for ten minutes. I know the lady at the counter is thinking, “bitch, buy the gum!” but I can’t without looking at the ingredients. And yet on Friday, I went ahead and made a roasted red pepper and tomato soup (it was delicious by the way) with the offending beef broth and didn’t even look at it.
Fast forward and hour and we are standing in IKEA, well, Trev and the spawn are standing, I am lying prone on a couch that felt like sandpaper and looked like stadium seating. To make things worse some fucking idiot thinks its some kind of you tube video and “planks” beside me. It was horrible. The big question is WHAT did it. Trev and I turn into Bruce and Cybil from “Moonlighting”, trying to find out how this happened. It took a couple days and we finally figured it out. The beef broth is in the garbage with my pride.
But really, considering that I was diagnosed a year ago and cook in a kitchen that serves only one GF eater, it is fairly impressive that it took me this long to fuck up.
So anyway, read your ingredients and try not to kill yourself. Take it from me, your pride is harder than Gluten to swallow.
And planking is for assholes.
And planking is for assholes.
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