Growing Pains

The back seat of a Cadillac

The pain was different than anything that I had felt, and remains to this day one of the most vivid memories from my childhood; fetal position in the back seat of my best friend’s mom’s Cadillac.   She was on the phone (they were pretty well off and she had the first cell phone; about as big as a piece of cord wood) with my mom telling her to meet us at the hospital.  My mom told her to just bring me home; she knew exactly what was happening.  I guess I had dealt with this cramping innumerable times before, but this was the first time that I ever remember other people being involved; I guess that’s why it stands out.  When I got home I sat on the toilet for probably an hour before the cramping finally subsided and I was able to go to the restroom.  Anyone who has experienced this knows that the relief is not immediate but gives you hope that it will end.  I think I slept for the rest of the day.

Code Red

My first date was with Molly Meadows; our parents dropped us off at the movies with a group of friends.  I don’t remember how nervous I was, but I could hardly get a word out of my mouth and I don’t remember what movie we watched; so I guess pretty nervous.  Before I left my house for the movies, I tried and tried to go to the restroom but couldn’t (this was a common practice of mine to try and avoid enviable doom), and to be honest, I wasn’t that worried.  Twenty minutes into the movie I was squirming around in my chair like a preschooler in timeout.  I excused myself and found the cleanest stall, sat down and pushed with all my might.  I wasn’t going to sit in there for 30 minutes and give her the suspicion that I was going “number two”.  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t.  I even tried techniques of breathing and relaxation that I had developed over the years, but to no avail. What seemed like an hour was probably only 10 or 15 minutes, but never the less I was humiliated to walk back to my seat.  I was sure that she, and everyone else, knew my issues.  Did I smell bad? Was she embarrassed of me? Would she not want to touch my hands?  All these thoughts were at war with my 13 year old confidence.  We made it through the movie and looking back I am sure that she didn’t even think anything of it, but the questions haunted me for days.  Every time I saw her talking with her friends I was sure that they were talking about me spending half the movie in the restroom.  It’s pretty silly to think about now, and I hope that anyone with a child that is going through this will remember what a big deal these small things are to a teenager.

 Pecan Valley

I was pretty athletic and played all the sports, but I was an exceptional golfer.  A tournament round of golf can take up to 6 hours and I played 12 to 14 tournaments each year from the time that I was 8 or 10 until I gave up a scholarship my second year of college.  Needless to say, there were lots of times over the years that I got in the same desperate situation, without my friends mom to drive me home.  It happened so often that it became my most feared competitor.  Finally in 2001, at the U.S. Amateur Qualifier in San Antonio, it beat me.  It was a one day 36 hole qualifier; the top 2 places would advance. My little brother was caddying for me and  it is one of my favorite memories from golf.  My first round was solid, 1 under 71 that had me in third place.  The second round would be played at one of my favorite courses, Pecan Valley.  We were paired with one of my old high school rivals; and after an even par front nine, I was in position to qualify.

The 18^thhole at Pecan Valley is a short par 4, dogleg right over a little creek.  Standing on the tee I started to feel those all too familiar pains.  I can just remember praying  that I would make it through this one hole.  I hit a mediocre 3 wood and a 7 iron on the back right side of the green.  Before I hit that 7 iron I was doubled up over my bag trying to decide whether or not I had enough time to go to use the restroom in a little stand of cedar trees off to my right (that sounds unreasonably desperate because it was). The pain was so bad that I could hardly walk.  And the fear of soiling my khakis was equally debilitating. As I bent over to mark my ball,  a tear drop hit the green next to my mark.  I was so angry and I was breaking down.  I hit my first putt literally shaking from the strain of trying to keep myself from defecating.  I missed badly and couldn’t take it any longer, I had to get to a bathroom.  I slapped my ball around like a hockey puck until it finally went in the hole for a double bogey 6, threw my putter to my brother and hobbled to the clubhouse.  I probably sat on the toilet for half an hour before the cramping relaxed enough for me to get some relief.  During that time I cried out of frustration, and not so much for the missed opportunity but for the life that I had missed sitting on a toilet.  For the record I finished in a tie 4^th place.

A New Revelation

It wasn’t until I was almost 30 years old and hundreds, if not more, incidents exactly like these later that my wife suggested that I might have Celiac Disease. We didn’t know anything about it when I was a kid, and doctors are extremely reluctant to suggest this very real condition.  But as I look back I am thankful to God for the experiences of my life and the lessons learned from those trials (Romans 8:28).  I am also thankful for the privilege of sharing these stories with you.  My prayer is that by reading this you will know that you are not alone, because that is the way that I felt so many times.  Also that living with Celiac disease is not complicated with crazy diets and restrictive living.  There are so many foods that are naturally Gluten Free and many more that can easily be made that way.  I hope you enjoy your time on this site and thank you for giving me an ear.