About 4 months ago I was diagnosed with coeliac disease (read the full story here). For people who don’t know the disease: it is a genetic defect, which makes my body attack itself, if I eat any crops. In fact it is easier to tell you what I still can eat – rice, potatoes, veg, fruit, quinoa, amaranth and millet. Secondary, caused by my coeliac disease I’m also lactose intolerant, which means I can only have certain cheeses, no milk, no cream and so on. If I have a good day I can eat yoghurt – I prefer to stay on the safe side though and eat a soya alternative to that. While the secondary lactose intolerance might go away after a while (not necessarily though) the coeliac disease means life-long special diet without excuses.
I met people who don’t take their gluten free diet very seriously. They drink beer now and then or eat normal pizza in restaurants if they’re out with friends, but I personally think they’re risking too much. What are the risks actually? Well, apart from food poisoning symptoms, if you overdo it (one of my friends described his first gluten reaction after a year of not eating gluten as “puking like you never have before”) you risk osteoporosis, infertility and even cancer. The risk of cancer is especially high if you only find out about your illness as an adult. This was the case for me and I waited two years before seeing a doctor about my stomach problems. I think, a lot of the time I was also just afraid that I might have something serious like cancer and therefore just thought – if I don’t know I’ll be better off.
To really make sure that you have coeliac disease there is a bowel biopsy necessary if your blood test comes back positive. My doctor – a funny German gastroenterologist, who studied medicine in Italy “for the kicks of it” – told me though that if the blood test comes back positive, they’re already quite certain that you have it, they just need to make sure that it didn’t already cause something more frightening. Well thanks for the open words, doctor! He basically told me that the chances are reasonably high that there is something more frightening going on! It takes some time before results from the biopsy get back to the doctor and therefore I had to wait with this rather horrible feeling that now I really might be terminally ill and if I had gone to the doctor earlier I wouldn’t be in this horrible situation! Well, of course it doesn’t really make any difference whether you find it out 22 or 24 years too late, so my logic was slightly off, but the reason for not really thinking straight is that the chance was reasonably high.
Since I was 13 I was slightly suicidal due to depressions. For a few years I was actually quite eager to make my miserable, dull and lonely life end – well you know how teenagers can be and I was even worse than most teenagers. I never actually went through with any attempt, but once or twice I looked down from our balcony in the 8th floor and started climbing over the balustrade. Once there was only a ringing telephone that made me go back on the actual balcony again. Dark days in my life that I wouldn’t care to repeat.
Back then there was only a friend between me and suicide. He looked after me and I’m grateful for that. I usually keep my promises and he forced me to promise to him, I wouldn’t do anything silly without contacting him first. He saved me once or twice. I always found it quite stupid if people called friends before actually committing suicide. If you really want to die, just get on with it, else it’s just a cry for attention! I never did that, but after my friend realized what I was going through he forced me to do it. One thing I promised myself though: I would make it end, if it was enough. I even set an arbitrary date – if I wouldn’t be mostly happy by the time I was 36 I would finish it off. Without telling anyone, I would jump, somewhere where nobody would care – maybe a cliff. Nowadays I can’t help but wonder what was going on in my mind back then – I love life, I find the world incredibly beautiful and there would be no reason whatsoever for suicide now. Even losing the man, who I thought would be my husband quite soon didn’t make me sad enough to even consider this again!
Since the moment back then on the balustrade of the balcony I was never afraid to die. I never thought I had anything to lose. I never was afraid of illness, car accidents or dark streets at night. In fact I used to walk home through the park at 3 o’clock in the morning in my home town. My Mom was attacked and robbed quite close to her appartment building only 2 years ago in the same town. It was never safe. And still, when I was 17 I would walk home through the park at night, which takes about 1 1/2 hours. I only had a weird experience once. I heard the ice crack behind me in the winter and then quick muffled steps in the snow. I didn’t really give it any thought, I just walked on and to be honest, who knows what park murderer the cracking ice drove away that night!
Who would have thought that one day I would be scared shitless – pardon my French – by the thought of having cancer? I knew that cancer would be the end for me, because I wouldn’t do chemotherapy. The whole idea of chemotherapy is just plain crazy, especially considering that a lot of people still don’t survive it. I remember running into my friend’s brother while he was getting chemotherapy when I was 12 and he looked like a ghost. He died about 2 months later at the young age of 21 and the only thing that chemotherapy got him was a lot of additional pain and losing a lot of his final days on this beautiful planet to hospital visits. Don’t get me wrong here – if there would be 80% probability that it would save my life, alright, but in cases where it’s the other way round I wouldn’t waste my time on it! Of course these are my personal choices and everyone has to make their own. I wouldn’t want to be kept alive just with machines nor would I want chemotherapy. Everyone else is allowed to cling to their life as fiercely as they think necessary, but I made my choices.
My doctor didn’t actually tell me any probabilities of how likely it was that I had something serious. I just knew that the health insurance wouldn’t pay for unnecessary tests! In fact they only pay for them if they are really really necessary. Suddenly I didn’t really understand what was going on anymore. I believe in afterlife and in the last years I have lived my life on the fast train, I took every chance I could get and therefore I can be proud of what I achieved. Expecting any more from a human being would be wrong. I did everything I could to live a good life. And still: I was scared to death! Who the hell have I become and how is it possible that I suddenly feared death? I have become someone who loves life and who wants to cherish every moment that is given to him on this planet. I have become someone who would actually love to have another hundred years more to spend with just reading books! There is so much that I still want to do and dying just doesn’t fit into my plan!
As soon as I understood that, I had to change my attitude. What if I really was terminally ill? I wouldn’t want to waste my precious short time with being devastated just because I have to die! Only a few months back a friend told me: “You can choose to have no fear. Just like that.” and in those days when I was waiting for the results of my biopsy, I proved that it was true. I decided that I didn’t have time to fear, I decided that I have to take action and have a plan in case I was really terminally ill.
What would I do if I only had 3 months to live? What is the most important plan in my life that I could just realize in such a short time span? It took me only a few seconds to figure the answer out: if I were terminally ill I would go buy a ticket to Argentina and dance tango for the rest of my life. My plan was actually pretty specific – I figured out how to get a proper passport in about a week (I only have a German ID-card which is valid only in Europe) and I certainly had the money saved up to buy a plane ticket and live in Argentina for about 5 months. For 2 days my way of thinking scared me even more than the prospect of cancer.
I also considered that I wouldn’t see some people ever again, that I couldn’t say goodbye and suddenly my fear was gone. Suddenly I remembered the afterlife and that I would see them again, all of them. The reason why I was afraid to die were not the people around me, because according to my beliefs I will see them very soon anyway, no it was about the precious moments I would miss. I could never have children and I wouldn’t see those children learn to walk or fall from their bike or graduate. I would never buy this house in Sweden in which I want to live when I’m old.
And then in all the melancholy these thoughts were causing I realized how important one fact was in all this: I couldn’t have done more in the life time I had! I overcame my depressions and my childhood trauma, I found a purpose in my life and I did whatever I wanted to do without hesitation. There’s not much more I could have done in my life up to now. I emigrated, I went after my love, I did everything to shape my future so that I will grow according to my potential and there is absolutely nothing I regret. What could anyone want more when looking back on his life? I’m happy with who I am and what I achieved until now and for this I’ve come a long way. Remember, I was this suicidal dull egocentric mess without a purpose only 10 years ago!
When I found out that I wasn’t terminally ill, I was almost sad – no excuse to just fly off to Argentina right now! Why don’t I just go anyway? Well, because I actually want to think about the future right now. I started a new degree, which lasts another 2 years and if I don’t want to lose my wonderful position to be happy with who I am, I have to keep doing what I have to and want to! Argentina will still be there in another 2 years – I will most definitely still be alive (touch wood) and I will have time to improve my tango skills further until then. I’ve been dancing for 2 years now, so another 2 years of practice will make a lot of difference!
Who wouldn’t find the thought comforting that he could have done no more with his life and that dying now wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all? If you want to know how I managed to get to a point where I can be completely happy with who I am, then I suggest that you read more of my articles!
