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‘That sounds like just what I need. Oh Trisha, if you were a man, I would marry you right away!’
‘What about Mr Pink? I bet he likes a good ol’ chick flick.’
The friends laughed and chatted as they continued their lunch, Miranda getting up soon after to head to her next interview. ‘Wish me luck!’
‘Just remember to channel your ‘inner spirit’ and you’ll be fine.’ Trisha winked, and Miranda and her inner spirit walked away smiling.
EIGHTEEN
Life Makeover Principle #6:
Don’t be a victim. Take RESPONSIBILITY for your thoughts, actions, and results.
‘He has what?’ Cara’s wide eyes locked with those of the specialist, while she bobbed Toby up and down on her knee.
‘Coeliac disease,’ the doctor replied. ‘We could do a biopsy to be certain, but based on his symptoms, your family medical history, and the fact that his antibody levels are through the roof, I’m confident this is the diagnosis.’
‘So, this means he can’t eat any foods containing gluten, right?’
‘Right. No wheat, rye, oats, or barley.’ He handed her some sheets of paper. ‘Here’s more detailed information, and contact details of some dieticians if you need help adjusting his diet. And this is a list you can bring shopping with you, to help you choose the right foods for Toby.’
‘Thanks, er ... will he ever grow out of it?’ Cara asked.
‘Unless someone discovers a cure, no. He’ll have to eat a gluten free diet for the rest of his life.’
‘I see. You mentioned there was something else too?’
‘Yes. According to the other tests we did, he’s also allergic to cow’s milk and soybeans.’
‘Milk? Soybeans?’ Cara echoed. ‘But I don’t think he’s ever eaten a soybean.’
‘Soy is hidden in many processed foods, so you’ll need to read the labels. Gluten and dairy products are also used in food processing.’
‘And I guess soy sauce is out, right?’
‘That’s right. But there are gluten free alternatives.’
‘Oh well, there goes tonight’s honey soy chicken wings!’ Cara managed a brief laugh, while thoughts swam around her mind... How would she be able to change Toby’s diet? His favourite foods were cheese on toast, yoghurt, choc-chip cookies, and milk. Milk! How on earth would he get to sleep at night without his cup of milk? She couldn’t even replace it with soy milk! ‘Do you think this diet will help clear up his eczema?’ Cara asked.
‘It’s possible. Eczema is sometimes the result of a food allergy, but in some cases it still persists despite a change in diet, so we’ll have to wait and see, I’m afraid.’
‘Mum, what’s a molecule?’Lily asked after school, as she opened her homework book on the kitchen table. She was nothing like Cara at age seven. Cara would head outside to play as soon as she got home, but every Monday, Lily completed her homework for the week all in one sitting. Carahoped this habit would continue into Lily’s high school years. The thought of helping her with fractions, essays, and science experiments gave her a panic attack.
‘Um, a molecule is ... it’s a ... well, it’s kind of like ... Lil, ask your father when he wakes up, okay?’ She knew what a molecule was, but couldn’t think how to put it into words. She could probably draw one though, but considering the homework asked for a written description, she doubted it would suffice.
‘Mum, did you know that water is really called H20?’ Lily asked.
‘Yes, that’s right. Wow, you’re learning a lot!’ Cara smiled at her daughter, whose light brown pigtails framed her face as she filled in her homework.
Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, I just learned what a molecule is. It’s the smallest particle of a substance.’
‘Oh yes, of course!’ Apart from doing all her homework in one go, Lily had also developed the habit of telling her mother everything she was writing down, showing off her newfound knowledge and vocabulary. This Monday ritual made Cara proud, and she wondered how she managed to give birth to such a smart young girl, then she remembered she married a smart young man.
After putting away all the gluten free, dairy free, soy free, and possibly taste free food she’d bought following the doctor’s appointment, and hoping the pantry doors would stay shut, Cara stood on a step stool and put her three new cookbooks away in the top cupboard. She was just about to close the doors when they all fell out. The thirteenth ‘bugger!’ for the day almost escaped her mouth, but she caught it just in time, unlike the cookbooks. Packing them back into the cupboard, she noticed one she hadn’t used in a while: ‘Nutritious Meals for the Busy Family’ was the first cookbook she ever owned. It had been a birthday gift from her mother when she was pregnant with Lily. She remembered what a shock to the system becoming a mother had been, not just physically and emotionally, but also in relation to the lifestyle change. When she received the cookbook, she’d cried, suddenly burdened with the realisation of the responsibilities ahead of her. Having been used to receiving clothes, jewellery, candles, and cosmetics as gifts, she’d now progressed to receiving oven mitts, Tupperware containers, and family cookbooks, and was somehow expected to know which thread count she’d prefer for her daughter’s first sheet set. At least one of her friends had given her some nice smelling bath salts for her birthday last month, but to be honest, she never had time for a bath (not counting the memorable one in the hotel), so the bath salts were about as useful as a resealable sticker on a box of chocolates.
While Toby sat in front of the television munching on a rice cookie, Cara snipped off the corner from a packet of rice pasta, plonking the contents into the saucepan of boiling water. She tried to open the ‘easy-pull’ ring on the carton of rice milk, grunting with effort, but resorted to stabbing a hole in the carton with scissors. ‘Take that, you dishonest excuse for packaging,’ she mumbled. She hoped Toby would never develop an allergy to rice, or she’d be totally screwed. Cara’s head flipped to the side as Pete entered the kitchen, tripping on a corner of the degenerating linoleum floor.
‘We must get this floor fixed, honey, or maybe even replaced.’
