Every day you can still eat and shit is a good day

I never paid much attention to the "gluten-free" fad that's been sweeping the nation. Sure, you'd go for a family get-together and half the people there were fussing about gluten, but I figured they were just fussy people. Nothing about gluten a robust lad like me would ever have to worry about. After the past few months, I must admit I have modified my outlook somewhat. Seems this celiac disease, or whatever they call a gluten allergy now, can claim the best of us. In my case I'm pretty sure it's because the safe and effective vaccine we were all bullied into has greatly compromised my immune system, but I can't prove it. So things is what they are, and I gotta admit things were seriously on the down-tick for a spell. First off, I was developing flaming red blotches on my skin that itched to high heaven. Then, the old reliable (for sixty-five years) digestive tract took a bad turn. For the first time since I was about three, or whenever mom weaned me off nappies, I've been able to distinguish between a pending fart and something more. Not anymore. You can imagine that set off some alarm bells. Without getting to graphic with the details, I shared my concerns with some those fussy folks. They were unanimous. Get off the gluten! So I did, as of last Thursday. My biggest concern was beer, because that's a medicine I hold as dear as life itself. Turns out there's a gluten free beer out there way tastier (although somewhat more pricey) than my regular swill. Easy to remember too; Glutenberg. Been making some other adjustments too. The first gluten-free bagels I tried were crap, but if you reframed them as gluten-free fluffy buns, they were passable. Turned out a lot of staples in my diet, like pickled beets and tinned kippers, were gluten-free anyway. I gotta tell ya, exiting the bathroom with a sense of accomplishment instead of a sense of dread is a gift well worth giving up gluten for.