Gluten Put My Life on Hold

I was never a healthy child, constant colds and infections and endless visits to the doctors only to be told it was “just viral.” My life has always revolved around the weak efforts of my immune system.

For the first six months of Year Seven, I had perfect attendance. I was making new friends, going out, drawing on eyeliner terribly, and living the best life possible for an 11 year old.

Then my attendance plummeted and it never got better. Throughout my five years at high school, it was a rare occurrence to make it through the week without at least one day off. A 24-hour bug would last me a week. The flu would last four. My school bag was full of notes from home to prove to my teachers I wasn’t lying.

Year 10 came along and I was getting weaker. My hair was brittle, my weight was dropping, and my forehead was covered in a red, itchy rash. Every day before school I would beg my mum to let me stay home because my stomach felt like a pumpkin being hollowed out by a scooper. After lunchtime, I’d feel out of control as though I could fall to the ground at any moment. I didn’t go a day without feeling sick.

I eventually went to the doctors in April of 2016, just before I sat my GCSE exams. He sent me away with a blood form and a prescription for anti-emetic pills to help the nausea. I spent that night researching every condition on those blood forms and out of all of them, I prayed that I didn’t have Coeliac Disease. What put me off wasn’t the lifelong gluten free diet, it was the means of diagnosing it. My emetophobic self was horrified by the idea of having a camera on a long tube forced down my throat.

I got the results two weeks later. Let’s put things into perspective. A normal Coeliac antibody count is roughly 14. Mine came back at 128. I was put on the waiting list for an endoscopy to confirm the diagnosis, the procedure I was dreading.

I finished my exams, got the best grades I could have, went to prom, and spent two weeks in Florida. My focus was on living the best life possible whilst dealing with awful fatigue and nausea.

Between September and December of 2016, I lost everything. The mark on the scale was telling me lower numbers every week. My hip bones and ribs started to show through my deathly pale skin. I looked ill. And I felt it.

I missed so much college I had to drop out, promising to return the next September. I spent my days in bed and I didn’t leave my house for weeks at a time. My friends were growing into adults whilst I was bound to my bed and sick bucket. We lost touch. I felt disconnected from everything. Life went on outside my room, but I remained the same: Sick, alone, and miserable.

Finally, I was upgraded to an urgent referral and I had my endoscopy in February of 2017. It confirmed what we all knew: I had Coeliac Disease. I was allowed to stop consuming gluten and slowly things got better.

Those months scarred me. I spent 10 months of my life held back by something I couldn’t control. I was angry at my body. It betrayed me. It made me weak and vulnerable.

Coeliac Disease isn’t a joke. It is a legitimate medical condition which needs to be talked about more. People need to stop associating “Gluten Free” with celebrities and fussy customers. We need you to listen to us.