Let's Talk About Poop, Baby

 

Let's talk about poop, baby. Let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that make me poopy. Let's talk abouuut Poop. Let's talk about poop.

Ok, now that I have that out of my system, or brain, or whatever, let's talk about "poop", specifically IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome - aka the generic term they give people with digestive issues when they can't really pin down a root cause). IBS is the only diagnosis I've ever officially been given for my stomach issues. I've had tests, blood draws, patch tests; I've had an endoscopy, and colonoscopy. And it all comes down to one thing - my body doesn't work they way it should, and I just have to deal with it as best as I can.

Yes, there are medications for IBS; however, they treat the symptoms, not the cause. They treat the constipation/bloating or they treat the diarrhea. Granted, I'm not a doctor, and perhaps in the 20+ years I've been dealing with this, they've come up with something better; however, these are my observations.

So some years ago, I decided that in light of having no medical options to treat my issues (other than toggling between meds to help me poop, and meds to stop allll the poop, my goodness there's a lot of poop in the human body), I started to try elimination diets to see what food triggers may be causing it. After a lot of trial and error, it seemed to boil down to gluten. I hate that it's gluten. If you don't have celiac or a wheat allergy, you aren't taken seriously when you have a gluten sensitivity. People assume that you are fad dieting. People are fucking judgmental about a lot of things, and as someone who loves to eat, this one was hard. So I cut out gluten from my life. I eliminated all points of cross contamination in my kitchen. I didn't go out to eat for a long time. And it's been... wonderful. At least in terms of no longer having extreme pain. I remember some nights being in so much pain, I was bent over, and could not force myself to stand up straight. I was in so much pain, I would sit on the toilet for an hour crying. I was in so much pain in my early 30's that my then boyfriend, now spouse, would ask to take me to the hospital (which I refused, but more on that later).

And now? The pain is gone. It seems like an even trade, take away gluten and the pain goes away (mostly, sometimes greasy food can have it's impacts, but nothing like gluten). But it is hard. Even if you meticulously read every ingredient on a product, even if you check the website for a product, sometimes, somewhere, there's unlisted sources of gluten - I've found this happens particularly with spices and shredded cheese. Even products that are listed as "gluten free" can be tricky. Hey, we took all the gluten out of this wheat product! Oh shit, I bet it's safe (it isn't).

So sometimes, I go out to eat again because again, I fucking love food. And most restaurants will work with me on a gluten free meal. But I usually give it about a 50/50 chance that what I'm eating might make me sick because cross-contamination is inevitable, even at the most cautious of restaurants (unless, they're entirely gluten free, but there's only a few places around here like that). It's a gamble. As long as I don't eat out too often, and plan for a little extra time on the toilet, a little cross contamination doesn't get me down at this stage in the game, usually. And then sometimes... sometimes, I really fuck myself over.

I took a shortcut for Christmas dinner. I typically make most of our food from scratch, but I really wanted to enjoy more time with my family and less time in the kitchen. So I bought a turkey breast in a bag so that all I had to do was put it in the oven, and wallah, easy main dish! I read all the ingredients on the bag. I checked for any red flags that may occur that don't necessarily spell out "they this has gluten!" and I went along my merry way. Boy, did I fuck up. The turkey breast was the only thing that I didn't make myself. It had to have been the turkey breast. The fucking spices. It came with spices already on it.

Anyways, so I think I've narrowed down the progression of when I am glutened, and I'm going to talk about it here because I can (and no one reads this anyways). It all boils down to poop. See, I think talking about poop is hilarious. It's something my kids and I have in common. But as a rational human being, I also know that poop is gross, and other adults do not want to hear about other peoples' poop. Oh well. 

Anyways, on the random chance that someone is reading this and does not want to read graphic detail about poop, stop now or forever hold your peace (or poop as it were). 

So, the first thing I noticed the day after consuming the gluten was feeling exhausted and sluggish. At first I was like, this is post holiday blues, or just general exhaustion from running around like a chicken with it's head cut off making meals and doing dishes for company for a few days in a row. I was constipated, but maybe I just didn't drink enough water with all that running around, plus I had some wine and maybe didn't drink enough water to offset the wine. Fine. I took a rest day (aside from feeding my family). 

But then the next day, I woke up with a migraine... and you may be thinking, "what does a migraine have to do with gluten?" Well, let's take a step back, one thing that didn't occur to me right away after going gluten-free is that my migraines just, went away. Instead of getting one every month or two, I only got them once or twice a year. Pretty nice little additional benefit, eh? I have no idea if it's really related to gluten or the fact that aside from the stress of having kids and owning a house, nothing could compare to the stress of being a poor 20-something working in customer service while being in credit card debt with a car breaking down every other week. So maybe just being in a better place in life with my career, financially, and interpersonally, it was just a  stress thing. And yet, day two after being glutened, one hit me like a pile of bricks being hurled at my skull.

Now, the next big fun thing about being glutened is that my lower GI seems to come to a grinding halt. I'm talking constipation, I'm talking trapped gas and cramping, I'm talking sitting on a toilet for half an hour at a time begging my body for a little drop of poop to escape from my rectum. And when it does, it's heavily coated in sludge, and still manages to rip open my asshole. I'm pretty sure when my body does this, it's somehow trapping the gluten and making it impossible to escape. GET OUT!

On top of the terrible constipation Tuesday and the migraine, and I was super fucking nauseas. And what does one do for nausea? Well for me, it's carbs. And guess what doesn't help constipation? Fucking carbs - even gluten free ones.

At the constipation stage, I also have to remind myself that it will pass (literally) because if I try to do anything, ANYTHING, to mitigate that symptoms, I will regret it. Unless the pain becomes so severe that I can't help but do anything otherwise, I do not take anything to help with the constipation. because it just makes the next stage so much worse. If I can just hold out for a few days, it's better in the long run.

Anyways, fortunately, I started feeling better from the migraine by yesterday because whoo boy do I have a lot of work to do this week before the year ends. Guess what also triggers IBS? STRESS! But, I feel kind of fortunate because today, I've magically been whisked to the next stage of being gluttoned a bit ahead of schedule - diarrhea! 

Now you might be thinking, isn't that also painful and also inconvenient? YES! Yes it is. But, at least it means that things are moving, and hopefully clearing whatever else is left in my system still making me feel sick as fuck.

So yes, the next stage is the diarrhea. It's not fun, running to the bathroom every hour in a panic thinking that this time I may be too late (yeah, it's happened, I've pooped myself more times than I'd like as an adult and it just is what it is). In fact, eventually, if the constipation hasn't already shredded my asshole, the constant onslaught of liquid-ey, and yet lumpy, poop-juice every hour most certainly does. My poor asshole has been through some shit in my 41 years of life, literally and figuratively. But at least at this stage in the game, something is coming out, including all the gas that has been trapped behind the constipated poop capsules. 

And that's why I never take anything for the constipation stage. While the diarrhea stage is awful, if I break down and take something for the constipation stage, the diarrhea stage is so much more miserable, and longer too. It truly is amazing how much poop lives inside the human body. I'm talking poop-juice filled toilets for days. I'm talking so much poop that my body may or may not decide that throwing up is a fair alternative to allowing my food to digest fully. And my goodness, if there's one thing I hate more than the initial symptoms of being glutened, it's fucking throwing up. 

When I was in my 20's and my stomach issues were at their worst, I used to throw up here and there for no apparent reason other than my stomach was fucking terrible. This was when I first started trying to have my stomach issues examined. They didn't find any ulcers (although there are future-ulcer spots in my stomach just waiting to bloom into life - joy), they didn't find anything concerning - they told me that I needed to get my anxiety under control (so I did, but it still didn't help my IBS). But every so often I would be at work taking a call or attempting to walk into a meeting, and would suddenly find myself hurling towards any available receptacle (usually a trashcan), and tossing all of my cookies. I almost never made it to the bathroom. Anyways, that's another nice little kick-back of going gluten free. Aside from the random stomach bugs that hit our house since having children, I haven't randomly thrown up in nearly a decade.

And that takes us to the final stage of being glutened - the recovery. Once my body has pooped out every drop and expelled sooo much fucking gas, I stop feeling crampy and nauseated, and then I get a little constipated again (not terribly constipated, but it's like my body is like, woah, hold up, we need to build up some of this poop reserve after so much loss). But my stomach just feels... tender for a while. Like, my stomach has gone through some shit (ha! literally), and needs some extra loving care. It doesn't hurt per say, but it just feels sore and a little grumpy.

What does the extra loving care look like? Bland foods mostly. Eating at home exclusively for a few weeks. More veggies, less carbs. Trying to drink a little less coffee, and when I do drink it, lost of creamer. Cutting out other things that sometimes I'm sensitive to like greasy foods, processed foods, processed sugar, and if I can stand it, dairy (I love cheese, but admittedly, my stomach is at it's best when I don't consume it).

So there you are, that's the scoop (or the poop if you will). It's a fucking trial every time I get some kind of excessive gluten exposure. So the next time you go to a restaurant with your gluten-sensitive friend or family member, and their questions seem extensive, try to have a little bit of patience. We're just trying to avoid being sick for fucking days. Like, it can make us literally sick as fuck for several days. Who would willingly sign up for that? Just, please be patient, and please please please, take it seriously. Don't tease us, don't make us feel any more awkward than we already feel for being the person that has to ask all the questions in a public place. No matter how much work I do ahead of time (checking for a gluten free menu or items on the menu, calling ahead for their gluten-sensitive protocol, and pretty much deciding ahead of time what I'm going to eat), I still have to talk to the wait staff, or otherwise just deal with getting sick.