by Shawn Kirby L.Ac.

Once upon a time, when the world was young and bright, in the beautiful land known as Boulder valley, there lived an extraordinarily handsome and intelligent young man. This fine fellow was studying to become an acupuncturist and Chinese herbalist to then go forth and heal the ills of mankind. His girlfriend knew him as “sweetie,” and his family knew him as “Shawn,” but the rest of the world just called him Gluten Boy.

Life was almost idyllic for our hero of yore, but there was one cloud on the horizon, one ant at the picnic, one constant and nagging problem that just wouldn’t go away – nausea. Gluten Boy had nausea. Lots of nausea. And he had it all the time, like a knot in the pit of his stomach, like the hands of fate clenching at his innards, like a softball jammed in his Manipura Chakra. Gluten Boy believed in his heart of hearts, with conviction beyond measure, beyond a shadow of any doubt, that there was something Dreadfully Wrong with him. For years he had searched for the source of his woe, only to be told that there was nothing actually the matter. Being strong of conviction and bold of spirit, this never satisfied Gluten Boy, and he kept searching for the answer to his nausea, like a hound on the trail of a fox, like a duck in search of a June bug, like a knight on a Grail Quest.

...

For awhile, Gluten Boy wondered if he had an open ileocecal valve, but then he realized that this “condition” had stopped being popular over ten years previously. No one cool had an open ileocecal valve anymore, so he moved on to more fruitful lines of inquiry. Next, Gluten Boy thought that perhaps he was lactose intolerant, which was a much cooler disorder to have, since so many groovy people seemed to be suffering from it. Admittedly, eliminating dairy had helped greatly for it allowed him to indulge in spending hours reading labels in grocery stores and asking impertinent questions of waiters, which was both fun and entertaining. However, eliminating dairy did nothing to get rid of the nausea and so he continued his search. From severe mustard intolerance to the Modified Mesolithic diet, from support groups for those suffering from the Great Siberian Itch, to special herbal teas that have been energetically blessed by Andrew Weil’s ™ beard, Gluten Boy tried it all – to no avail. One day, in a fit of desperation, in the midst of a dark night of the soul, when he had just about had enough, Gluten Boy had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. What about the latest craze, eliminating Gluten?

And lo! It worked! Suddenly, his problems went away! Overjoyed, Gluten Boy was convinced he had found the one, true, and noble path to health, happiness and beauty in all things. From that day forward, he was convinced that the true cause of the ills of mankind were the direct result of the presence of gluten in the world. And so he went forth, often overcome with fits of religious zeal, converting the ill, the sick and the slightly uncomfortable to the ways of the gluten-free diet. And in this manner, he became known as Gluten Boy.

Each day, Gluten Boy would arrive at school, to be greeted joyfully by his fellow students. “How you doin’ Gluten Boy?!” they would shout.

“Well, my nausea is almost tolerable today, thank you for asking!” Gluten Boy would reply. “And how are you today?!” Gluten Boy would then shout back.

“My stools are fully formed my friend, my stools are fully formed!” would come the response from one of Gluten Boy’s gluten intolerant friends.

Gluten Boy had many gluten intolerant friends, each suffering from the curse of gluten in a kaleidoscopic rainbow of strange and disconnected symptoms, from nausea, to loose stools, to emotional upset, to spontaneous fits and speaking in tongues. The gluten intolerant would often gather together to discuss their symptoms, to commiserate upon their plight, and sometimes to sing hymns.

As time went on however, Gluten Boy’s nausea would return. Distressed, Gluten Boy would frantically go over his diet from the previous 72 hours, mentally taking note of all he had eaten. Each and every time, Gluten Boy would discover that he had accidentally eaten yet another food item that contained “hidden glutens” he had not known about. For instance, Gluten Boy discovered that ketchup contains gluten (vinegar) while Necco Wafers do not. He also discovered that he could no longer eat anything that contained the phrase “modified food starch” for it might contain gluten. In the end, Gluten Boy determined, through the vast and tremendously accurate resources of the internet, and his own internal nausea-o-meter, that most food, in fact, contains gluten. And so it was that gluten boy eventually came to eat little more than brown rice and vegetables. Finally, his nausea ceased, and all seemed right with the world… for a time.

But then Gluten Boy developed new and more serious problems. He had, of course, lost a tremendous amount of weight. He hadn’t been overweight in the first place, but everyone told him how impressed they were that he had lost weight, so Gluten Boy took this as a good sign and simply bought new clothes. He also started to feel light headed every time he stood up and his heart would pound in his ears, and this did trouble him, but he took Chinese herbs and felt a little better.

It was Gluten Boy’s girlfriend, who had become his fiancée, who noticed that Gluten Boy’s nausea had given way to more and more nervousness, forgetfulness, and downright kooky behavior. Gluten Boy hadn’t slept well in months, and had fitful dreams. His hair was thin and brittle, his skin was dry and he had a wan look about him. He had almost driven his poor future mother-in-law to a nervous breakdown with the prospect of having to cook for him (she is famous throughout the county for her Cinnamon Rolls), and even stopped eating at his favorite restaurants out of fear of being “glutened.” But Gluten Boy’s fiancée held her peace.

Soon after the wedding, Gluten Boy and his new bride arrived in Kauai for their honeymoon. Having dropped their bags at the hotel, and taken a walk along the beach, Gluten Boy and his new bride made their way to Hula Girl, which was soon to become their favorite restaurant in Kauai. There they ordered two cocktails, the kind with the little umbrellas on top, which they drank down with a speed born of a long flight over the pacific. These cocktails were so good, so comforting in fact, that the happy couple ordered two more and a slice of Hula Pie to go with. In a drunken stupor, Gluten Boy did the unthinkable – he ate a large heaping spoonful of hula pie, complete with ice cream and Oreo crust. His wife stared at him with saucers for eyes, as he ate yet another bite, and then ordered a third round of Mai Tai’s. And still Gluten Boy’s wife held her peace.

The next morning, Gluten Boy awoke to the sound of birds and the surf beyond his window. He stretched luxuriously and sat up in bed when suddenly he shouted, “HOLY S#*t, LAST NIGHT I ATE GLUTEN!” Gluten Boy broke out into a cold sweat and began to shake, wondering what horrible side effects might yet be in store. And then, the unthinkable occurred...

Nothing.

And so it was that Gluten Boy took his ease, relaxed, and had a few more Mai Tai’s and a few more slices of Hula Pie. And still nothing happened. It was on the last day of their honeymoon, under a moonlight sky, with a gentle breeze wafting in from the Pacific, the sound of the surf on the beach, and good solid rum buzz going on, that Gluten Boy said, “You know, I don’t think I was ever gluten intolerant. But I don’t understand – why have I been suffering from nausea? And why on earth did it suddenly disappear in Kauai? Is it the low altitude, the cool Pacific breezes, the volcanic rock soil that the fruit is grown in here? What is it?”

And then Gluten Boy’s wife finally broke her silence. “Honey,” she said, “you have nausea because you have a nervous stomach. You have a nervous stomach because you are a type-A stress case. You don’t need to be on a gluten-free diet. You never did. What you needed sweetie, was to go on your honeymoon, get bombed out of your gourd on tropical drinks, do some serious snugglin’ with your honey and chill… the hell… out.”

And so it was that Gluten Boy was cured by the ministrations of his lovely wife. Upon their return to the mainland, Gluten Boy’s wife recommended that he take up a hobby, something to calm him down and ground him, something that would help curb his nervous ways and keep the nausea at bay. And so it was, with great irony and even greater enthusiasm, that Gluten Boy took up the fine art of baking artisan bread. And he, his wife, and the sourdough boule pictured below, lived happily ever after.