Ten to twenty times when I'm not presenting at a conference.
Are you kidding? What else is there to talk about? IT HAUNTS ME.
Only when someone puts me on the spot.
Once in a while I accidentally let someone know I have it and they stare at me until I pretend I was just kidding.
Some of my best friends have celiac disease...
I'm basically Baceliac Obama.
I've been reading a lot of blogs. And forums. And studies. And support group websites. Actually, since I don't know how to socialize with normal people anymore, I haven't been doing much else.
It's not my top priority.
Sometimes I blog about how celiac isn't a disease, it's a symptom of wheat. Or I publicly lead a gluten-free lifestyle except for a couple weeks every three months, when I go nuts and cram every baguette I can fit down my gullet.
I'd say I'm more of an ally.
Okay, I used to like your blog, but now I see that you're the enemy. For shame.
What? OMG, where can I get that? Is it covered by my insurance? Yesssss! I'm so glad I didn't throw out my all-purpose flour yet!
Um, I'm not sure you've got that quite right, but I guess that's your business.
Eh, I'd probably forget to take it anyway and just suffer the consequences. Like I do now, with the gluten-free diet. Whatever.
How wonderful for you—and my Thanksgiving menu, too!
I cook almost all of my own meals from whole foods. I check every package label and call the manufacturer directly if needed. Come over sometime; your villi are safe with me!
Oh god, what is “cross-contamination”? Does that have gluten in it too?!
I’m careful, but I don’t like to be the center of attention, so sometimes I don’t ask the right questions.
When I bake for my gluten-free friends I always use parchment paper!
Of course. Awareness mustn't be censored.
I have bloating, alternating diarrhea and constipation, heartburn, migraines, anemia, low cholesterol, joint pain, unsteady gait, difficulty focusing, weird bumpy skin rashes, fatigue, insomnia, depression, dry eyes, thin hair, nails with horizontal and vertical ridges, oh and I forgot anxiety! I am really really anxious! I read that all of this is caused by celiac, please tell me is this true?! I can show you my biopsy images if that will help!
Not even my doctor knows all the details.
My symptoms aren't that bad—not worth giving up lasagna, anyway! What, permanent damage to my intestines? Yeah...and?
Goodness, I have one or two of those symptoms once in a while. Maybe I should get tested!
More than most med school professors, probably.
I was trying to tell my friend how my stomach was eating itself, but then I thought maybe that wasn't exactly right so I just wound up saying it's kinda like low-carb.
The only people I've tried to knock some sense into are the manager at my favorite restaurant and my in-laws.
I've told plenty of people it's okay to eat the fillings out of sandwiches or samosas. I let my unpicky light shine.
I'm no expert. I don't even have celiac disease.
A delicious, varied, healthy diet, of course! Check my blog for recipes.
I DON’T KNOOOOOWWW!
None of your business.
A little of everything—even gluten. Moderation is key, you know.
Oh dear, I don’t want to rub this in, but, among other things, gluten.
I'm pretty sure I wrote the article you're using to fact-check this quiz.
Come on, I'm having a hard enough time remembering that it's wheat, barley, and rye I can't eat anymore. Or is it wheat, barley, and oats? What is barley, anyway? Do eggs have gluten?
No, but I'm okay with that. I have other hobbies and interests.
What is this, high school bio? Gimme a break, nerd.
Well, sure. But some people thought Martin Luther King, Jr., talked about race inequality too much.
I am driving my friends, family, and self up the wall with the extent to which I talk and think about gluten. I am overflowing with emotion and treat every conversation as a dumping ground. I try to move on with my life but then I remember this is my life.
Only the celiac police. I don't know what their problem is; I'm not shoving bread down their throats.
Around Thanksgiving I get flustered and my gluten-free guests ask me to stop worrying so much.
Everyone who knows me, and many who don't.
My close friends and family, and the bartender who spent half an hour awkwardly patting my shoulder while I wept about not being able to order my favorite IPA anymore. I don't think I can go back there again...
It's mostly between me and my doctor.
I keep it to myself so I don't get called out for eating pizza.
I don't have celiac disease.