When Linda called today to see how I was doing, I told her how these recent weeks have felt like waves knocking me down: the decision to pull Lanie from co-op, handling a bigfat Great Books class on top of schooling my kid and keeping up with the other, the house and yard stuff, then weeks of health/hospital/tests. Just when we thought we were in the clear, I picked up my trays of responsibility--and recall quite clearly saying, "Bring it."
I wasn't kidding. I knew the second wind would come and having a child's health thing removed from the load (so I thought at the time) made me stronger and more determined that I could do it all and paint a couple of rooms to boot. All that other stuff seemed like a cake walk.
Yeah, bring it.
So it surprised me that a Celiac diagnosis would knock me flat--mostly because I felt unprepared: I don't have a lot of gluten-free choices in the house, and when she asked what was for lunch, I think my mind went blank.
That kiddo ate a full pot of brown rice and some grilled chicken. As I was going to make dinner last night, the power went out and stayed out for six hours. Luckily, a spaghetti squash I had in the microwave was finished cooking, and so we picked our way through that.
I talked to a friend who walked me through my kids' favorite things to tell me about gluten-free options. She told me about her favorite websites. That BJs has gluten-free pizza packs (they have gf chicken nuggets too--and now so do we). I'm learning about flour blends. I ordered three new cookbooks.
David and Anita called last night--our surrogate grandparents. Immediately when they got the word Celiac, they researched and printed off information. They both, at separate times, promised me that their grandkids (my kids!) would always have gluten-free cookies waiting for them.
David said to me, "You're my daughter."
I never want to forget this.
I never want to forget how those who love us have rallied around us and cheered us on.
Just over 24 hours of a new normal, and even though my head is throbbing (probably from the interrupted sleep last night and preoccupation), and I'm trying to remain present while my mind is busy working out this puzzle--I'm so thankful.
So, Linda called today just to check on me.
"I don't know what's for dinner on Friday, but I'll make sure there's extra wine in case it doesn't turn out," I said. She laughed. She laughed at other things too, and was encouraging during my repeated refrains: I'll work it out.
"I know you will," she said.
Kind of regrouping as I stand back up from that punch, Celiac. I know there are worse things, and this is completely manageable. It causes me to look at my kitchen and food a lot differently--and that's fine. Once we adjust, it will be second nature.
Thank you to all: Nora, Lori R, the Beckys, Karen So, Teena, Lisa, Linda, Connie and Val, Marshall's Mom, David and Anita, Denise, Christy, Julie and Kellie. And if I failed to mention anyone else, my apologies--running on few consecutive hours of sleep. But thank you.