CeLiAc CeLeBrItY

I posted my diagnosis story a year ago in "Pre-Diagnosis and Testing," but I figured that I'd start with my life before I turned the gene on.Apparently, someone (whether Upstairs or otherwise) wanted me to have difficult challenges most of my life. I realize that I'm not the only one, but I thought that I'd share a few things.Sometime in 1983, before I was born, and until I was eight years old (1991), my father was a manager at the Allentown, Pa. UPS. One of his co-workers had a severe case of the Flu, and he, for one reason or another, decided to "share" it with my father. "You've got to get this," he said. My father got it, and gave it to my mother, while she was pregnant with me.You may have noticed in my signature that I also have ADD. The jury is still out when it comes to the validity of our theory, but my mother and I believed that her battle with the Flu could be the cause. I don't know if ADD is hereditary.Four years later, I was getting tests done that were supposedly normal for young kids, such as EEGs (brain wave testing). I remember laying on a bed with a nurse beside me. She kept telling me to close my eyes, but I couldn't understand (and was literally thinking to myself) why she wanted me to sleep. Apparently, because I didn't do as instructed, she and my (incompetent) pediatrician thought that I had epilepsy.After this "epilepsy" hypothesis, an MRI was ordered for me, of which I still have pictures. My parents kept me up all night and let me watch Sesame Street and Mary Poppins, so I could fall asleep for the test. I didn't--so the doctors drugged me (I don't remember getting the MRI--the aforementioned subject part of the sentence is probably why). I did not fall asleep until I was in the car, where I wet my pants. For that, the pediatrician and the rest of those people are such swear words that I won't put here.My MRI was fine--but the pediatrician "genius" prescribed me the same epilepsy medicine that my neighbor's daughter was taking--except, she was an actual epileptic--she had Grand Mal seizures (ones with severe convulsing). My parents said that my eyes were glazed and that I looked drugged. *shakes head* Then, my neighbor referred us to an expert neurologist who performed surgery on and analyzed children's brains everyday. He read me a book, and told me that I was fine--and that I should slowly be weaned off of that horrible medication. He also told me that I needed a "structured" upbringing, which has extended, unfortunately, into my adulthood, and I am still being "raised" as a 22-year-old adult. That, however, is another story.Sometime in my early years of schooling, after my ADD diagnosis when I was four, I was diagnosed with a mathematical disability (Discalculia--difficulty figuring out simple math problems in my head) and--which I think is nonsense--a "spacial relations disability" (I am messy and disorganized--but the school people told me that I was distracted in larger spaces and therefore needed a smaller space. That is such bullcrap.) *I started Kindergarten at the age of six, because the "experts" didn't think I was ready to attend school. I was 19 at graduation.*When I still lived in Allentown, after moving from Reading (where I was born) and Mohton (a nearby town), I was in full-time Learning Support (L.S.) classes. Back then, in the early 80's and 90's, it seemed as if every psychologist made mental disorders and learning disabilities sound absolutely dehabilitating. Oh, speaking of the example I forgot to give, I also learned how to write late in life in comparison to other children, because of problems with small-motor coordination. Because I couldn't trace the lines for the letters of the alphabet in my workbooks in preschool, my teacher told my mother that I'd have to USE A WORD PROCESSOR FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. This, ladies and gentleman, is why I prove myself to other people and try to make people the the pediatrician and this woman look stupid--and, not to sound arrogant--but prove that I am better than people like them and that they are insane for limiting me to their stereotypes. I eventually learned how to write legibly, but my handwriting did not look "mature" until I was in sixth or seventh grade. I changed my writing every year (ie, I but circles for dots on I's or I made my T's round at the bottom until my writing looked mature and girly). I was criticized by many of my teachers for my illegibility in the past, and for my inattentiveness. As for my math disability, the only person who was inconsiderate was my Algebra I teacher during my senior year of high school, Mr. Chess. He even had the gall to approach my English teacher (I have superior verbal skills/literary analysis skills/creative abilities, and had 100% in my College Prep. English class) and tell him how terrible I was in math. My English teacher just told me, "Don't feel bad. I can't even do Venn Diagrams." Since I can do Venn Diagrams, I thought that that was pretty funny. So I continue to crank out perfect papers and poetry, not only because I like to do it, but because Mr. Chess will be so shocked when he sees or hears of my success, he won't know what to do with himself. Or, so I hope.In high school, before celiac disease, I was thinner than I am now. I did not hit 100 lbs. until I was 14 years old. I was athletic, as I am now, and started running Cross Country at 13 and competing at 14. I won 12 medals total (both Jr. High and Sr. High careers combined), and three plaques in the conference meet. I took dance classes for ten years (ages 8-18), until my dance teacher retired in 2001 (my junior year) . I was a ballerina and a tap dancer all ten years, (intermediate, beginner pointe [toe shoes], advanced pointe), and began lyrical dance and pointe ballet when I was 12 (took both for six years). I was also in chorus from fifth grade to my senior year of high school, drama club (9-12 grades), Pegasus (school literary society, 9-12 grades), International Thespian Society, French Club, and Wrestling Cheerleading (10-12 grades). I graduated 28 out of 72 in my class, and my gpa was a 3.1. I got one scholarship from the school's alumni association for $400, so it paid for two semesters' worth of books during my freshman year of college.That's a lot of information--I will stop here--I apologize for the random subject changes, I went in the order of my thoughts~Jill