The Wellness Bitch

Most people subcribe to the philosophy that ignorance is bliss. Why? Because what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

If we look at that statement from a philosophical perspective, it’s almost true. If you don’t know what’s causing you pain or illness, that particular thing isn’t what’s hurting you. It can’t be. What you don’t know, you don’t know.

Does your brain hurt yet?

Mine does. But not from thinking about the above. From trying to avoid all the things that may potentially hurt me.

I have one kid who has an anaphylactic allergy to peanuts and tree nuts, another has a severe allergy to sesame seeds. And now I’m trying to figure out how my kids will not waste away on a nut-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free diet. Why am I driving myself crazy? Because I know what will hurt them. And I won’t ignore it.

I took my kids for preventative blood work that indicate they have sensitivities to the above foods (on top of their “true allergies.”) Unlike allergies, food sensitivities don’t create an immediate, life-threatening response. Instead, by ingesting foods you’re intolerant to, you are potentially causing long-term damage leading to chronic illness. (Read this article, which is a pretty good layperson’s explanation of the difference and the impact of eating foods you’re sensitive to. It’s long, but make sure you read all the way down.)

Do you fart a lot? Wake up with a bloated belly or nasty reflux? Make too much poop or not enough? Yeast infections? Acne? Irritability? Trouble focusing? WAKE UP! These are all symptoms of food intolerance. I’m not diagnosing you here, but I’m suggesting you give up the philosophy that ignorance is bliss.

If you want, you can spend the next few years pretending it’s not the food you eat. You can say things like, “But I eat cheese at every meal” or “It’s only a little lactose intolerance” or “Milk is the only thing she will drink.” 

All blissful cop outs. 

Meanwhile, I’m sneaking fish oil and rice protein into fruit smoothies. I’m hiding probiotic powder in rice cereal. I’m flossing baby teeth and slathering skin with Badger Balm. I’m doing all of this on an average of five hours of sleep a night and a diet of vegetables and dirt, as my friend Marc would say. (But, I look awesome, my husband chimes in. He’s right. I’ve lost weight and my skin is so soft.)

Like you, sometimes I just “don’t want to know.” But it’s too late for me. And, frankly, too late for you if you’re reading this.

Knowing is like taking a peek into Pandora’s box. You can’t. Once it’s opened, it’s unleashed.

Today I’m checking in with the American Rally for Personal Rights happening IRL in Chicago, but streaming live anywhere in the world here. Watch speakers live all day!

If your child has autism, has been injured by vaccines, or if you are sick and tired of people telling you what you can and cannot do with your body, you’ll feel welcome in this community.

The wellness bitch almost reared her ugly head yesterday at my son’s baseball game. Two women, a mother and a grandmother, were sitting behind me. The grandmother shows up with a big bag of “fruit marshmallows” as a snack for her grandson. The conversation went like this.

“I brought some fruit marshmallows for Joey’s snack.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Joey likes marshmallows.”

“Yeah, I figured he would be hungry. I had to have a few myself though.”

(At this point, I have to turn around to see exactly what a “fruit marshmallow” is. Any guesses? I’ll give you a hint: There’s no fruit involved.)

“Well, marshmallows aren’t so bad for you. They don’t have a lot of sugar.”

“Oh, a little sugar never hurt a kid anyway.”

There’s so much wrong with this picture, I don’t even know where to begin. But the primary foul rests with the word SNACK.

WAKE UP. A snack is a light meal. I brought my kid a snack to the baseball game, too. A bag of sliced organic apples and a thermos of water.

Not only are fruit marshmallows NOT a meal; their effects will be the polar opposite of what you are trying to achieve by bringing your kid a snack! Same goes for the McDonald’s Happy Meal the mom on the other side of the bleachers brought along. (Kudos to the mom next to me who brought a peanut butter sandwich on whole grain bread; a step up.)

Fruit marshmallows, no matter what brand, are at best SUGAR, CORN SYRUP, and GELATIN (and that’s when they’re homemade). When they come from a bag that’s been sitting on a shelf for months, they likely contain preservatives. And when they’re labeled “fruity,” they also contain food coloring, known for causing hyperactivity and other symptoms in kids.

Why didn’t I say something to the two women? The grandma seemed like an angry broad and the last thing I wanted to be was one of those moms that gets into a fist fight at their kid’s baseball game. You’ve got to choose your battles wisely.

I could really use a cup of coffee this morning. Between the two-and-a-half hour series finale of Lost which kept me up way past my bedtime, and my youngest kid waking up before 5 am this morning, I’m dragging. And green tea, though lovely and refreshing, does nothing to lift my head up off the edge of my desk. Caffeine? My ass. I don’t believe it.

I’m on day 8 of my 21-day detox.  And for those of you who are wondering, I’ve actually been doing exactly as I’ve been told over the past seven days, save for a half a glass of white wine on Saturday night. (Damn friends. All would be fine and dandy if  I didn’t ever have to leave my house and socialize. But considering I had to say no to both Pad Thai and fudgy chocolate cake that night, I consider myself fairly disciplined.)

I still don’t feel so great. Congestion lurks. I’m sleepy, obviously. And I just don’t feel like doing this anymore. I have so many reasons why I should stop:

1. I’m too tired.
2. It’s too hard.
3. I’m pretty healthy any way.
4. Seven days is more than the average person could last.
5. No one is watching.

And yet, I’m pushing through. Why? Well, I can’t tell you how I will feel tomorrow or next week. But today, I’m pushing through to prove a point. And, here it is.

WAKE UP. Life is hard. If we only chose the easy shit to take on, we’d spend most of our days scratching our butts and picking our noses.

Choosing to act based on intention as opposed to impulse is pretty powerful stuff.  And contagious. Take on one area of your life and you will usually show up powerful in another.

So, take on food and see improvement at work.

Take on work and see improvement in your love life.

Take on your love life and see improvement in your sex life.

And, then just be happy, because at that point your life rocks.

Some of my most introspective, a-ha moments happen while I’m taking a shower.  I haven’t yet figured out how to safely bring my laptop in there so I have to quickly scurry to my desk, towel loosely wrapped around my bottom, and type up anything interesting that’s come up while I was washing my hair.

What came up today was mucus.

Thick, yellow mucus came up and out after a painful, chest opening sneeze. To clarify: the mucus came from my chest, not from my nose. My nose is clean. It’s not stuffed. It’s not runny. I have a little post nasal drip, but that’s about it. There’s no indication that I am sick. No fever. No headaches. Just a tight chest, some asthma, and this thick yellow mucus coming out from my chest.

I have a stong hunch that this stuff’s been hanging out in my chest for a while. And now that I’m doing a detox, it’s free to come up.

Do you know what else besides mucus is likely hanging out in my body or yours? Yeast (Candida). Poop. Bacteria. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. And as my integrative physician, Dr. Marc Devito says, by the time you show symptoms of disease, you’re in pretty bad shape. That shit has been brewing for years. (I’m paraphrasing Dr. Devito here.)

Mucus. Candida. Bacteria. They are all ingredients in a cocktail that leads to inflammation. And that inflammation leads to disease and death. And if you think you’re clean, WAKE UP, you’re not.

Unless you’ve been a contestant on Survivor for the last 15 years, you’ve likely been leading a toxic life. It’s almost unavoidable in our society unless you are making a conscious effort.

Like I do, you probably have some shit simmering in your gut, taking up space in your lungs, or moving carefree through your bloodstream. This is the shit that causes allergies in your kids; cancer in your parents; and all the other illnesses of the 21st century.

First step? Freak out. Second step? Chill out and figure out your next step. First place to look is your diet. Second place to look is how you take care of your body when it’s sick and when it’s well. Third step? Ask for help. There are lots of folks who are ready to listen.

That shit wants OUT of your body.

And no matter how old or how fat or how slow or how scared you are: You’re not a lost cause.

Why do some of the holistic practitioners I know still use antibacterial or heavily fragranced soap in their bathrooms? Why are they using Clorox wipes to clean their counters? Why do their floors smell like they were just mopped with SYNTHETIC LEMON SMELLING TOXIC CHEMICALS?!?!?

Ok. Not all of you are doing this. Some of you have got it right. Both of the places in which I practice yoga have got it right (green-friendly hand soap!) My integrative pediatrician’s got it right (green office!) And those of you who sell green cleaning products on the side have probably got it right. But some of you need to do a little tweaking.

Don’t be too embarassed. I understand you probably just didn’t think about it before now.  But know this: I want to keep coming to see you, but when I do, I have to decide between washing my hands and BREATHING!!!!

Oh…and one more thing. Sometimes therapeutic essential oils are not much better for people who are very sensitive. Please keep this in mind as you are treating those of us who are trying desperately to avoid living in a bubble.

Thank you. Rant over.