Hi, my name is Liz and I have an autoimmune disease.

There. I said it. I won't say that I've been denying it for the past 5 years, but I certainly have been pretending that it's not a big deal. But it is. It is a big deal. My doctor told me when I was diagnosed 5 years ago that once you are damaged, you're always damaged. I knew he was right, but it's taken me since then to really understand what those words meant. Always damaged.

Over the years my way of eating has changed, and continues to. I started out going for organics, not really understanding why people needed to replace their pizza with gf pizza. But then the realization that this is for life sets in, and you really need pizza. So I then went into eating various gf substitutions, most of which I made myself because they were all gross.

After seriously resisting being "Paleo", I've come to the conclusion that I just need to stop fighting. Sometimes I wish I was that person who can just eat whatever they want in sheer ignorant bliss. But then I stop and think, no, I'm not. I don't want to be that person, I am just seriously jealous of their seemingly rock solid guts. But I've been feeling like I got taken out with last week's garbage for 2 weeks now. And at some point, I had to realize that my body isn't what it was. I can't eat what I could before and not pay for weeks to come.

Always damaged.

It was chilly and rainy here in Raleigh today, so a nice beef stew sounded like a nice way to end the day. Well, I should say goat stew, since I didn't have any beef stew meat. So into the slow cooker it goes!

I put the following in the cooker:
one onion
one green pepper
2 beef soup bones (stock is healing! don't throw away the bones!)
1 lb of stew goat meat
a good bit of salt, pepper and garlic
oregano
a couple sprigs of dried thyme
covered with water

Yep, we're that complex around here. Even my son, the picky 7 year old, asked how to make the broth because it was that good.

Sometimes, it's the simple small things that not only taste good, but feel good. Today is that day I stop resisting. I just hope at some point, I can get those words out of my head. I don't particularly like thinking of myself as damaged.

Today has been a very reflective day for me.

On this day three years ago, someone who I didn't know lost her 4-year-old daughter to cancer. I had no idea this person existed or that about a year later I would meet her and we would work closely together and become good friends.

On this day three years ago, my sweet Jillian was 10 days old and in the NICU. We stood over her diligently, hoping that her little brain would kick into gear and the random periods during the day when she would stop breathing would end.

Life is so fragile. It is so strong and resilient, yet so fragile.