In 2010, I had my last real doughnut.
It was an éclair from the Arborg Bakery when my friends and I were in town for a college project. I told them, “Before we leave, we have to stop at the bakery!”
While my friends cooed in doughnut heaven, I drove back to Red River College, scratching my itchy burning hands as they bubbled like pop rocks.
I couldn’t accept the obvious: I was Celiac.
When one of my aunts was diagnosed in the late 1990s, few people understood Celiac disease. In a nutshell – no gluten. Barley, malt, malt flavour, brewer’s yeast, dextrin. And more! Celiac is an autoimmune disease, and it runs on its own timeline – and it’s often hereditary. Stress or an overload of gluten can mess with your gluten filled life. After years of yummy puffy homemade bread, a body can revolt.
Continue reading “My Last Real Doughnut: The Celiac Realization”
Tammy W. Karatchuk 