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Hello, it's me again--the person who wrote the other day about her
problems with the Peace Corps. I received a healthy number of responses
from concerned individuals, and several of them included warnings about
traveling to Africa for one reason or another.
 
Strangely enough, it was a trip to Madagascar in 1994 that
ultimately led to my diagnosis. I almost didn't go on this 4 month
excursion, either, because I was so mysteriously ill, I felt as if I
were dying. My doctor at the time gave me all kinds of tests and x-rays
(yeah, I had that icky barium shake....Never again!), and finally just
said I was lactose intolerant and stressed.
 
What luck that I decided to go to a country where the diet
primarily consisted of rice, fish, fruits and vegetables, and rice (did I
mention I ate rice?). Yes, I suffered from the local bacteria as the other
Americans on my program did. But I felt stronger, healthier, and had more
energy than I remembered having in years.
 
The next semester I studied in Paris, and my diet changed accordingly. I
was bewildered when all of my old symptoms returned, and quite often I
barely had the strength to crawl out of bed. (needless to say, I didn't get
that much out of my Paris experience).
 
How bizarre, I thought, that I felt better in Madagascar--even taking
into account the Dysentery and Malaria that plagued me in that far off land.
When I returned back home last summer, I went to an allergist, who (as my
current Celiac specialist said) "went out on a limb" to make the diagnosis,
and I've been much better since. A new person, even.
 
Well, I hope you've enjoyed this little tale about my life. With any
luck, it will have a happy ending. Once again, thank you everyone for
your concern.
 
Amy Lester
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