Too Much To Say

I've always struggled with my purpose for this blog. Originally, it was so I could write again. Then it became a teaching tool for my students. Then it became dormant as I worried that no one would want to hear what I had to say. And so for the last five months, I ignored it. I thought it was because I didn't know what to say. In reality, I know now, it's because I have too much to say.

From what I can figure, for the last five years I have been killing myself.
The catch? I didn't know it.
I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. Neither did
the ER doctors
the neurologist,
the obgyn,
the colorectal surgeon,
the hematologist,
the podiatrist,
the rhuemotlogist,
the family practice doctor,
the lab technicians,
the many vials of blood, or
the countless lab tests and xrays.

No, it was my cousin--the person I grew up babysitting, playing school with, and spending weekends with at my grandparents house in "the woods"--that knew. It was my cousin, a talented and kind-hearted newly graduated doctor, that solved the mystery that was killing me:I have Celiac Spruce disease.

So here begins my journey of living, not dying, as a Celiac.