Who knew I was a Silly Yak?

Feb. 16, 2004 --  I never really cared what I put in my body. High-fat. High-carb. Extra-sugary blobs of fried grease covered in chocolate syrup. Yummy.

Pretty much whatever I eat I end up at the same weight anyway. And I've been married for almost 10 years and she hasn't been grossed out by my girth so far. In other words, I saw no real reason to change. That all changed recently when my doctor informed me about the Silly Yak.

I found out over the phone on a Friday that I have Celiac (pronounced Silly Yak) Disease. I was informed that this was a permanent condition and that it had something to do with wheat. I was scheduled for an appointment on Monday to go over the details. I wasn't too concerned, I have to admit. Something named after a Goofy Bison couldn't be that bad. But I decided to look it up on the Internet anyway.

I quickly found out that this is pretty darn serious. Basically what it means is that if I eat wheat, barley, oats or rye, my intestines will basically, well, DIE! There is no cure and the only way to avoid it is to avoid Gluten which I assumed either came from the wheat or out of the Silly Yak. Either way, I can't eat it. Why they named this disease after a Nutty Water Buffalo I have no idea.

At first I didn't think this was going to be too bad. I mean, who eats those grains anyway? But I took a little tour through the local grocery store to discover that EVERYTHING contains wheat. Soy sauce! Licorice! Even Twinkies! And then it hit me. I couldn't sleep.

And I rushed to the doctor's office on Monday morning in a feeble hope that I had misheard her on the phone and that I had something like "Silly Koala Bear" which would mean I couldn't eat anything from Australia.

But, no, the doc confirmed I was doomed to a gluten-free life. FOREVER. The first question out of my mouth was the one that kept me up the night before.

"Does this mean I can't have beer anymore?"

"Yes, but you should concentrate on the things you can still eat. You can have corn and rice and meat..."

"No beer."

"Right, but you can have wine."

And that's when the image came to me. I was sitting in the Outfield bleachers at Coors Field. I have a hotdog (minus the bun so the organic ketchup is running down my arm) and sipping a chilled glass of Chardonay. The image is blurry after that because I kept picturing the mob of fellow baseball fans beating me to death with bats made out of gluten.

The doc continued to tell me about all the wonderful recipes available for the gluten-free diet. She didn't talk about not going to Taco Bell ever again. Or eating a pizza. Or BEER!

Since my diagnosis I have learned more about this from fellow Silly Yaks. Apparently there is a gluten-free beer that is made back east that costs $35 a case. The reviews from my fellow Yakkers were glowing. One said, "After three or four, it almost tastes like real beer."

So, with beer shot down, I decided to look at food. Because my regular grocery store was filled with gluten, I was forced to go to a place I have never been in my life: The Health Food Store! The first thing I noticed upon entering the store was that every single mployee sported several piercings and had long dreadlocks. I finally figured out where all the fans of the Grateful Dead work!

Anyway, I was able to find quite a selection of gluten-free items. My personal favorite was in the baked goods aisle. There I found the gluten-free Fake Cookie!

In fact this company is so proud of its Fake Cookie, it calls it the Fookie. Although I was not enticed enough to purchase the Fookie, I did find a number of other Fake foods (i.e. Foy Sauce, Finstant Fashed Potatoes and Fereal).

I find myself these days in a much stranger place. I find myself reading the labels on foods I don't even want just to increase my list of foods I can't have (sadly, brussel sprouts are still OK).

I tend to take quite a while to do basic grocery runs now. "Where were you?" my wife asked after I came home late one night after work. My answer is simple: "Just Fhopping!"