Three years ago, before my diagnosis, on a chilly fall night much like this one, I decided to warm my condo by baking. I cracked a couple eggs in a large bowl, stirring in water, oil, and my favorite brownie mix. The thick batter rippled into the square pan as I scraped the bottom for every drop of chocolate. For 30 minutes, I tried to occupy myself as the heavenly aroma taunted me.
I live alone, so you can guess how this story ends.
Yes, I ate the whole pan. What was I supposed to do? Share with my coworkers the next day? Don’t be silly. The brownies wouldn’t even be warm and gooey by then, which is the best part. So what if I tried to reframe the situation as an act of empowerment? Again, I live alone, so only my poodles were judging me.
And then I threw up the entire pan of brownies.
Turns out warm and gooey vomit is also less painful, but I couldn’t believe how my body was forsaking me. Chocolate is my solace, or so I thought. Maybe I had just eaten too much?
So a few months later, when I baked my next batch of brownies, I only ate half the pan. Surprisingly, I puked those up too. The next day, I tried a very conservative 2”x 3” piece, promptly vomited, and lost my desire for brownies. I have not had one since.
My disease has forced me to give up a lot: sunshine, sports, and social events to name a few – but I’ve accepted the adjustments without much complaining. However, when I first read chocolate, specifically cocoa, is high histamine, I denied it. After all, chocolate always brought me joy and eased the tough days.I have fond memories of devouring rows of Oreos after a long day of school. I assumed chocolate was going to help me cope with this disease too.
I spent a full year in the “bargaining” stage of grief. First, I realized dark chocolate made me puke much quicker than milk chocolate because of the cocoa content. Luckily, I always have preferred the less dignified milk chocolate, and willingly gave up dark.
Next, I decided if I ate tiny portions of milk chocolate throughout the day, instead of a whole bar in one sitting, my stomach would be okay. I bought individually wrapped Dove Promises to help me ration. (Plus, I am fructose intolerant and Dove Promises don’t contain corn syrup.)
I wanted to ensure I received my regular daily serving of chocolate, so I usually began my doses at about 8 am every morning. My little reward for going to work, I told myself. Before lunch and after lunch, I’d have a couple more pieces. Then, almost every day, around 2 pm, I’d mindless demolish half the bag. I wouldn’t even pause to read the little promises in the wrappers. When the nausea and cramping began, I didn’t even feel regret. I took Benadryl and awaited my punishment.
One week, I was so tired, I ran out of chocolate. The craving gnawed at my concentration, but I noticed my belly felt remarkably more comfortable. I was spending fewer HOURS in the bathroom. A reasonable person would have stopped eating chocolate at this point, but I am not reasonable when it comes to chocolate. Instead, I decided the culprit was the soy.
Yes, I am ridiculous, but I was actually right. My chocolate addiction uncovered a severe soy intolerance. I had already cut most soy out of my diet, but of course I never considered eliminating chocolate.
Do you have any idea how hard it to find soy free, corn syrup free, milk chocolate? And how expensive it is? Soy free, milk chocolate also seems to have a higher cocoa content, so I settled on Theo’s Milk Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups as my preferred poison. Besides, peanut butter is protein, so basically, it’s a health food.
…which leads me to my current predicament. My local Whole Foods is out of my peanut butter cups. I guess I bought the entire stock. Then I went to Minneapolis, and bought their entire stock. I don’t know where I’m going to get it from next, but I’m certain nothing will stand in the way of my love for chocolate.