*me walking through the commonsblock to my residence building*
Girl in Booth: Hey! Do you want to participate in a three-course dinner to promote sustainability?
Me: No, thanks. *tries to walk away*
Girl in Booth (frustrated): I don't know why everyone keeps saying no! There is really no downside to this! It's a great-
Me (slightly defensive): I have allergies.
Girl in Booth (sympathetic): Oh! I'm sorry. What are you allergic to?
Me (realizing the complete impracticality of an explanation) Pretty much everything.
Excepting awkward situations like the one described above, it's much easier to follow my allergen-free diet here at school. I mean, sure, there are still some awkward (see above) and horrible things about it. For example, at my school, in order to live in my residence you HAVE to purchase a meal plan. Problem: I can't eat any of their food (My parents and I did not know about my allergies when we purchased my meal plan, for the record). But I've got to spend the money on my meal card somehow, so I've been in the following situation numerous times for the past couple weeks:
*me dragging myself up the stairs to the dining hall, preparing myself for the onslaught of- OH GOD, THERE IT IS! THE SMELLS OF ALL THOSE FANTASTICALLY FORBIDDEN FOODS!!!!! Aauggghhhh!.......*
I walk directly and precariously through the war zone, er...dining hall, to the back where they keep the water and fruit (the fruit, as it happens, is always cruelly next to stacks of mocking bagels). I resignedly place four apples and four kiwis on my tray (which were certainly not designed to accommodate eight pieces of semi-spherical fruit), then grab two water bottles from the fridge and line up to pay for them with my meal card. Standing in line I can't help but stare longingly at my fellow students' plates of chicken strips, French fries, Macaroni and cheese, sushi drenched in teriyaki sauce, fully aware that I look like a complete moron standing there with my bizarre food choices (I can only cling to the hope that no one assumes I'm weird enough to have water and fruit comprise my dinner). One on occassion:
Cashier (raises eyebrows as she does the transaction): Too much water.
(I smiled through gritted teeth. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?)
School is more of a safe zone than home, I think, because at home the forbidden foods are just there. Waiting -no, begging to be eaten. Here at least it would be socially unacceptable to eat other people's food, and criminal to steal some. My room, naturally, only houses foods I can eat, so it's a sort of refuge for me; a place that doesn't want to hurt me. I'm grateful for this place.
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
Tuesday, 9 October 2012
An Allergen-Free Thanksgiving
I got to come home from school for the three days that comprised the Thanksgiving break this past weekend and I had Thanksgiving dinner with my family on Sunday. As this was my first Thanksgiving with allergies, it was an interesting and somewhat depressing experience. It was the first some of my extended family members had heard of my allergies, so I had to explain to one person that I couldn't have soda pop, and was told repeatedly by another well-meaning relative that there was plenty of gravy, so we should all have more if we wanted (I wanted, but couldn't). My own personal dinner was comprised of turkey, sweet potatoes (hooray!), cauliflower, grapes, strawberries and pumpkin pie.
It wasn't too bad, really. The worst thing about it was watching other people eat their stuffing, their gravy, their sugar-sweetened desserts and ice cream. I really was immensely grateful for my aunt's sweet potatoes (she made them plain so I could eat them, which is perfectly OK with me, as I happen to adore sweet potatoes), and it was nice to have the familiar element of the turkey, even if I had to forgo stuffing and gravy. But the real victory was in the pumpkin pie. My mom made it catering to all my allergies, so it was the only dessert I was able to eat. It had a pecan crust, contained ground up walnuts, and was sweetened via date sugar and pure maple syrup. It contained no flour, dairy, eggs or cane sugar. WOW! It was incredibly good. My mom (who is allowed to eat like a normal person) had a piece and agreed that it was some pretty fantastic pumpkin pie. You know the best thing about it? It didn't taste like a special pie. It was just a really really good, ordinary pumpkin pie. It didn't taste good in spite of the fact that it had no eggs and no sugar and no flour, it just tasted good period.
That, I am finding, is the true test of whether or not any of my allergen-free food attempts are successful: are they good food period? Do they taste good to the non-allergic? That's how I know the pie was a success. Thanks, Mom ;)
It wasn't too bad, really. The worst thing about it was watching other people eat their stuffing, their gravy, their sugar-sweetened desserts and ice cream. I really was immensely grateful for my aunt's sweet potatoes (she made them plain so I could eat them, which is perfectly OK with me, as I happen to adore sweet potatoes), and it was nice to have the familiar element of the turkey, even if I had to forgo stuffing and gravy. But the real victory was in the pumpkin pie. My mom made it catering to all my allergies, so it was the only dessert I was able to eat. It had a pecan crust, contained ground up walnuts, and was sweetened via date sugar and pure maple syrup. It contained no flour, dairy, eggs or cane sugar. WOW! It was incredibly good. My mom (who is allowed to eat like a normal person) had a piece and agreed that it was some pretty fantastic pumpkin pie. You know the best thing about it? It didn't taste like a special pie. It was just a really really good, ordinary pumpkin pie. It didn't taste good in spite of the fact that it had no eggs and no sugar and no flour, it just tasted good period.
That, I am finding, is the true test of whether or not any of my allergen-free food attempts are successful: are they good food period? Do they taste good to the non-allergic? That's how I know the pie was a success. Thanks, Mom ;)
Saturday, 6 October 2012
Sometimes Allergies Suck, and I Don't Want To Live in Suck
I hate to make my first blog post on a negative note, but I suppose it can get better from here.
Today my allergies seemed to loom mockingly in my face. Most days of the week I live off at school in a university dorm room where I keep all my "Jacqueline-friendly" foods. I obviously don't keep foods kicking around that I can't have, so I'm not immediately faced with the temptation of resisting eating all the forbidden foods. Granted, I do work at a fast food place, and am daily surrounded on campus by foods I can't have, but it's not so bad there because in order to have those foods, I would have to pay for them. But yesterday I came home for the weekend. I didn't realize what a struggle this would be.
My mom's tantalizing chip bag left open that seemed to beg for a hand to reach inside...a pie sitting carelessly on the counter top, my dad loudly proclaiming he was going to get ice cream to go with his slice, my brother's beautiful, thick and fluffy all-purpose flour pancakes sitting in a giant, mouthwatering heap as they cooled on the breakfast table next to my dark, crumbly, overshadowed buckwheat ones in the shadows...the vibrant tomato sauce covering the chewy penne pasta that was part of the dinner that I watched my family enjoy while I munched on cauliflower and peas...
ARGH!!!!
I don't think I'm very good at having allergies yet. I don't always know how to act, who to tell, how to be safe, yet how to be reasonable. Obviously my family is not going to stop eating the foods I can't eat (I'm almost never here anyways, for goodness sakes). I can't help the part of me inside that feels affronted every time people eat some of my forbidden foods in front of me. They're just being normal, but I can't seem to help reading their actions as flaunting. Part of me wants to snap at them not to be so mean in reminding me of my exclusion from so many wonderful foods, and another part keeps telling myself that I need to just stop being bothered by their behaviour; that they haven't done anything wrong, but that there's something wrong with me...And I'm often left wondering were the line between others' accommodation and my own, er, eye aversion, should fall. I don't really know. Having extensive food allergies can really really suck. I now empathize with others who also experience this suck: I feel your pain, I am new to this crew, having only discovered my allergies about a month ago, and I can't imagine having to live this way potentially for years. Or for life.
Even having allergies for such a short amount of time, I already sometimes feel trapped and enslaved by them. I no longer get to choose my meals based on what my appetite is craving at that particular moment now that my body has screamed out that some things are anathema. I feel somewhat betrayed by my body, like it has suddenly bailed on me, telling me that, contrary to what I've always thought, I am not a normal person, and any sense of control over my body and health that I ever possessed was an illusion, a lie. I'm a slave to a piece of cryptic, yet damning piece of paper, with certain food items highlighted, the neon yellow marker flashing a warning sign to me.
But I don't want this to be my story. I don't want to live my life as a trapped slave. I want to get over my allergies, but I don't know if that will be possible for me, and I don't want to put my life on hold until/if I do. I want to live happily on this restricted diet. I want to celebrate my life and I want to thrive. I will live free from sugar, from gluten, from dairy, from eggs, from cucumber, carrots and coconut (and...well, I'll spare you the whole list here), and I will live free from feeling trapped, betrayed by my own body and oppressed by the diets of the rest of world. I will be gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free...I will be without almonds, peanuts, lettuce, spinach...I will do foods free and without and I will thrive. I will be free, in all senses of the word.
At least, I will do my best to try. Join me?
Today my allergies seemed to loom mockingly in my face. Most days of the week I live off at school in a university dorm room where I keep all my "Jacqueline-friendly" foods. I obviously don't keep foods kicking around that I can't have, so I'm not immediately faced with the temptation of resisting eating all the forbidden foods. Granted, I do work at a fast food place, and am daily surrounded on campus by foods I can't have, but it's not so bad there because in order to have those foods, I would have to pay for them. But yesterday I came home for the weekend. I didn't realize what a struggle this would be.
My mom's tantalizing chip bag left open that seemed to beg for a hand to reach inside...a pie sitting carelessly on the counter top, my dad loudly proclaiming he was going to get ice cream to go with his slice, my brother's beautiful, thick and fluffy all-purpose flour pancakes sitting in a giant, mouthwatering heap as they cooled on the breakfast table next to my dark, crumbly, overshadowed buckwheat ones in the shadows...the vibrant tomato sauce covering the chewy penne pasta that was part of the dinner that I watched my family enjoy while I munched on cauliflower and peas...
ARGH!!!!
I don't think I'm very good at having allergies yet. I don't always know how to act, who to tell, how to be safe, yet how to be reasonable. Obviously my family is not going to stop eating the foods I can't eat (I'm almost never here anyways, for goodness sakes). I can't help the part of me inside that feels affronted every time people eat some of my forbidden foods in front of me. They're just being normal, but I can't seem to help reading their actions as flaunting. Part of me wants to snap at them not to be so mean in reminding me of my exclusion from so many wonderful foods, and another part keeps telling myself that I need to just stop being bothered by their behaviour; that they haven't done anything wrong, but that there's something wrong with me...And I'm often left wondering were the line between others' accommodation and my own, er, eye aversion, should fall. I don't really know. Having extensive food allergies can really really suck. I now empathize with others who also experience this suck: I feel your pain, I am new to this crew, having only discovered my allergies about a month ago, and I can't imagine having to live this way potentially for years. Or for life.
Even having allergies for such a short amount of time, I already sometimes feel trapped and enslaved by them. I no longer get to choose my meals based on what my appetite is craving at that particular moment now that my body has screamed out that some things are anathema. I feel somewhat betrayed by my body, like it has suddenly bailed on me, telling me that, contrary to what I've always thought, I am not a normal person, and any sense of control over my body and health that I ever possessed was an illusion, a lie. I'm a slave to a piece of cryptic, yet damning piece of paper, with certain food items highlighted, the neon yellow marker flashing a warning sign to me.
But I don't want this to be my story. I don't want to live my life as a trapped slave. I want to get over my allergies, but I don't know if that will be possible for me, and I don't want to put my life on hold until/if I do. I want to live happily on this restricted diet. I want to celebrate my life and I want to thrive. I will live free from sugar, from gluten, from dairy, from eggs, from cucumber, carrots and coconut (and...well, I'll spare you the whole list here), and I will live free from feeling trapped, betrayed by my own body and oppressed by the diets of the rest of world. I will be gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free...I will be without almonds, peanuts, lettuce, spinach...I will do foods free and without and I will thrive. I will be free, in all senses of the word.
At least, I will do my best to try. Join me?
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