Last year I put on a bunch of weight. My clothes didn’t fit: even my boots didn’t fit. Worst of all, my face was all puffy and tight-feeling. Then my nutritionist, Cheryl called me. I’ve literally known Cheryl since high school. It’s a really great story, if you’d like to hear it. So in 9th grade I was at this super hard private high school, and there were some really mean girls there. Closer to where we lived was another private high school, so my parents sent me there mid-year, to take a tour.
My tour guide was another 9th grade student named Serela (I know, cool name, right"). The last bell rang, I headed for my mom’s car, and Serela handed me a folded note. She said to read it in the car. I jumped in with my mom and read Serela’s note: “If you go here, I’ll be your friend.” Can you even stand the cuteness"! Adorbs.
So I went and we were indeed friends. And guess who Serela’s mom was" Yup, Cheryl. They lived upstairs in a super cool loft above their health food store, and Serela and I were just in awe of Cheryl. She’s not your typical nutritionist from what I hear (I wouldn’t know, since she’s the only one I’ve ever had). Cheryl has you run blood work, take a celiac genetic test (she’s the reason I found out I was celiac in 2004), get your hair tested, and more. She’s gonna figure out what’s going on with you, that’s for sure. I’ve know her for (38 minus 15 is…) 23 years. In fact, as we said our goodbyes before moving to Colorado (back in 2006), Cheryl told me that I would some day write books and move to California. I mentioned that to her recently, and she laughed infectiously saying, “Well it was plainly written across your face!”
Anyway, back to last year, and my clothes not fitting, and my swollen face. Cheryl said it wasn’t weight, it was inflammation. In my face"! I didn’t even know th...