Member-only story
Hiding Lactose Intolerance? Don’t.
I almost made it to the highway that morning. I still hadn’t seen my doctor, who would ultimately diagnose lactose intolerance as my problem.
Every day, for years, my routine was the same – cereal with whole milk for breakfast, then head out the door to school.
In my sophomore year of college, I suffered a particularly bad cold with much congestion. When I dragged myself to the pediatrician (I had stubbornly not seen an MD for three years), the doctor had told me to “stay off dairy” for a few weeks. Little did I know it would kill the lactase in my system, forever changing the course of my life and my lifestyle.
Feeling better, I went back to my old schedule. But 2–3 miles into my 8-mile car trip, I felt queasy. I cramped up. And I knew I’d definitely need to find a bathroom ASAP. Over the next three months, in this pre-Internet, pre-Mapquest, pre-Google Maps era, I would create a 10-mile-wide spreadsheet in my head of every public restroom and restaurant where I could quietly use a bathroom.
I managed to deduce my condition had something to do with breakfast. Yet I still didn’t switch my consumption. Instead, I assembled my books by the front door and shoveled the cereal into my mouth. I’d brush my teeth and bolt for my car, hoping that the symptoms wouldn’t hit for 15-minutes minutes this time, enough for…
