One of my favorite delusions is that I’m perfectly healthy. I harbor a dream that my Celiac Disease has spontaneously cured itself, and one day I will be able to share crostini with Michael in Florence, or go out to eat without worrying about some mysterious gluten source sneaking into my food. I speculate about the possibility that my thyroid has regenerated, and I’m free from the pills I’ve been taking for a decade…so far.

The reality is, the possibility of these things happening is infinitesimally small. Yes, I hold hope that a high-veg diet coupled with regular exercise and stress reduction might cure me, or that, perhaps, someday far in the future when I get pregnant, one of the unpredictable outcomes will be an end to my autoimmune diseases (ADs). But this post isn’t about those dreams. This post is about the reality of my life with ADs–which tend to come in clusters for us lucky people–and an attempt to lay the groundwork for future posts on the same topic.

Autoimmune diseases, in oversimplified terms, are the result of the body getting confused and attacking itself as if it were a pathogen. There are a host of possible causes for onset, ranging from physical trauma to genetic predisposition. In my case, we think it’s a combination of the two. Hashimoto’s runs in my family, and Scandinavians have a higher propensity for Celiac Disease; when I got a kick-my-butt case of mono at age 15, it really sent my body reeling. This was quite the one-two punch, because even after I recovered from mono itself, my body just wasn’t working quite right. I’m convinced that assault on my immune system is what flipped the switch to the “on” position for my ADs.

When I was 17 and feeling lousy still/again, my mother took me to her endocrinologist. Mom had just been diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Hypothyroiditis (an AD that attacks the thyroid gland), and we shared many of the same symptoms. Within a few weeks, I had a matching diagnosis and a bottle of Synthroid. I didn’t have all of the tests to confirm that it’s Hashimoto’s (as opposed to the less pernicious, but still troublesome, Hypothyroidism, which is not an AD), but blood tests coupled with an ultrasound were sufficient for my doctor.

Fast-forward a few years, and I had the experience of a lifetime: a semester’s study in Rome. As I scarfed down pasta and panini from one end of the city to the other, I found myself in increasing pain. I eventually found an English-speaking chiropractor whom I saw for weekly adjustments. They would alleviate the pain for a day or two, but soon I would be in agony again. We had no idea what the problem was, and fears ran from Fibromyalgia to a compressed disc in my spine to a tumor that was causing a bizarre reaction. By the time I left Italy in December, 2004, my dad had to “borrow” a wheelchair for me at the airport because I was in too much pain to walk to the gate.

My favorite place: the Pantheon in Rome

Finally, in July of 2005, I had an appointment that would change my life. My dear friend Daphne took me on a road trip to Maine so I could visit the Women to Women Clinic, originally founded by Christiane Northrup. Within twenty minutes of meeting Marcelle Pick, dream Nurse Practitioner, I had an answer. Nearly a dozen doctors before her couldn’t figure out what was wrong, telling me it was “just stress” or, worse, insinuating that it was all in my head. So when Marcelle said that she was quite sure my problem was gluten (which I had never heard of), rather than being depressed that this meant a lifetime without pizza and beer, I was elated that I finally had answer. (The crushing frustration came later, believe me.)

Practically speaking, ADs are part of my life, but managing them has become second nature. I don’t even think about Hashimoto’s anymore–especially now that my medicine is finally working properly; I just take my pill every morning and pop over for a blood test every six months to make sure all my levels are normal. Celiac Disease is certainly a bigger production, but after five years of managing it, I have my routines…though I do still encounter the occasional snafu.

Any questions?

Would I like it if these ADs disappeared? You bet. But since they’re a part of my life, I choose to glean the lessons I can. I also find it an honor to share my story with others, both people who are unfamiliar with ADs, and those who are learning to live with them. So if you have any questions, go ahead and ask. And if you have stories of your own to share, please go ahead and do so in the comments.

Please note: I am not a medical professional. In fact, I’m pretty lousy at science. All information in this and subsequent posts are purely my own understanding and interpretation based on personal experience and research over the last decade. If you suspect you have an autoimmune disease, please consult a trained health practitioner immediately.