Intolerance towards Lactose Intolerance

“Once conform, once do what other people do because they do it, and lethargy steals over all the finer nerves and faculties of the soul. She becomes all outer show and inward emptiness; dull, callous, and indifferent. “
Virginia Woolf

Situationally apt quote from one of my favourite authors. So that’s my excuse for the hiatus.

Anyway, I’m happy to announce that I’m out of this phase (don’t know if you should be happy about that, though). The writer in me has rested well and is raring to go.

Unfortunately, not much seems to be happening these days. Not much worth mentioning in my blog at least. So I’ll turn to my trusty list of miscellaneous “blog-ables” that I think up during boring lectures and train journeys (incidentally, why isn’t the plural of journey “journies “if pony = ponies?).

Topping the list is my constant war with milk and milk products. Here goes.

Lactose Intolerance (Wikipedia): Inability to metabolize lactose.

Popularly known as “Milk Allergy” (I have long since learnt not to use this erroneous name… ever since my kindergarten classmates who heard the term vehemently averred that they suffered from it too, mistaking my medical condition for a hatred of milk).

You must be wondering what I’m talking about, too. Most people seem to have never heard of Lactose Intolerance and then skeptically say “Who you kidding dudette? Like, DUH, how can you not drink milk?!”

See, no-one can absorb lactose (a sugar) in milk as it is. The lactose sugar in milk needs to be broken down first by an enzyme called lactase, and then subsequently converted to forms that can be absorbed in the intestines. Now, as is the nature of things, things go wrong. This lactase may not be secreted in appropriate amounts, leading to non-digestion of lactose, blockage of the alimentary canal etc.

A quick Google search reveals that nearly 50% of Indian adults suffer from “Secondary” lactose intolerance. In their early years, people need more milk and hence more lactase is produced; but this production declines over the years as the need for milk declines. And the person goes “lactose intolerant”.

In my case, technically called Congenital Lactose Intolerance (occurring in 1 in 1000 newborns), the baby is born with some glitches in its DNA such that its gastric walls do not secrete lactase at all. Symptoms such as diarrhea and vomiting on drinking even mother’s milk, begin to surface from the second or third days of life and if not suitably tackled can be life threatening for the child. Hats off to my parents for having juggled this so perfectly for me, considering that I was born with some sort of maltose and fructose deficiency too (which nearly crossed off all food from my menu in the first 2 to 3 months of my life). So what they did was pump me with meds and all sorts of drips and stuff that I don’t know about because Mom and Dad don’t want to recall it. Anyway, I survived the first few weeks and it seemed that the battle was won. But in reality, it had only just begun.

You see, the moment a lactose intolerant person drinks milk, the stomach realizes that it can’t process this “foreign” food. And it goes berserk. Diarrhoea, vomiting, blockage of the digestive tract ensue. So much so, that hospitalization becomes necessary and eating, a distant dream for the next week or so.

My “panga” with lactose products had totally debarred me from cow’s milk, thereby requiring me to grow up on soya bean milk, which by the way sucks (forgive the colourful choice of words). I know many people like it, but think of drinking Zerolac everyday twice a day for eight years and you’ll grow to hate even the smell of it. Even goats’ and camels’ milk was tried as someone said it contains less lactose. But it needed to be specially imported for me in those days, a cumbersome task for my middle class, non-businessman background.

Growing up with well-off kids at school was another major hurdle. My bench partner would consistently get “cream biscuits” in her tiffin. Mom being the half doctor she is, had warned me never ever to eat out of someone else’s “dabba” because I’d end up in hospital if I consumed lactose by mistake. And I, being the obedient kiddo that I am, sincerely avoided eating the tantalizing goodies. But I got labeled as a “dork” who’s too proud to eat out of others’ tiffin. “Oh well, I can’t expect kindergarten kids to understand the discomfort of landing up in hospital”, I’d tell myself and brush it off. But the scars remained.

You won’t believe the amount of precautions that need to be taken to avoid milk products in your food. Most people don’t realize how much milk makes its presence felt in the food we eat. Some of my friends were actually shocked to learn that chocolates contain milk. ((DUH)) Paneer is a milk derivative that I could not tolerate. Curd went down well with me though. From my experience, I’d say nearly 50% of processed food and hotel food contains lactose, which people don’t realize. Right from 98 percent of Indian mithais to sandwich spreads to mayonnaise to 99.99 percent biscuits to pizzas to tomato soup to chicken tikka to Veg. Hyderabadi to Magic Pop candy to 90 percent chocolates right down to tea and coffee. Everything has lactose in it. Avoiding so many things, especially when you love half of them, is a major task requiring gigantic amounts of self control and caution.

I’m not too miffed about it, but I had never touched my own or anyone else's birthday cake till age 13. Chocolates and ice-cream were out of bounds too. (At least that gave me un-decayed teeth). Ditto for pizza and cheese, which I happen to love.

I must have missed more school till fourth grade than all my classmates put together thanks to rebellious or more frequently accidental ingestion of lactose. The people at my paediatrician’s hospital knew all our family members. Having an aunt who’s a doctor helped. I’ve spent at least a month every year in hospital, which explains my pure hatred of even the “hospital” smell of spirit these days. In fact, lactose intolerance eventually culminated in my oath to never EVER become a doctor because I can’t bear to see the amount people suffer in hospital, seen enough of that life to last me several lifetimes.

And the fact remains that I haven’t had my share of calcium in childhood and my bones and teeth remain at the risk of orthopaedic and orthodontic problems later in life.

However, the good news is that I began to tolerate milk products slowly. Doctors had promised it and my grandma kept looking for signs by treating me to half a cup of milky coffee (my weakness) once a year which inevitably landed me in hospital. It still would.

But hallelujah! I gradually started eating small chocolates. These days the only chocolate I can’t tolerate is Toblerone (again, a favourite. Talk about the forbidden apple).

A couple of years ago, I discovered I could eat cheese. And man, life’s good with cheese in it! I ate my fifth ever pizza just the day before yesterday.

Barbeque chicken pizza by Domino’s rocks!

Only this January I ate a whole mango dolly by Amul (officially the first ice-cream of my lifetime) with little consequence other than 5 hours of violent spasmodic cramps.

And I have officially visited CCD once in my life because EVERYTHING on the menu is off limits for me. Even the victuals that they offer are high on lactose. Waiting for the day I can start COFFEE!!! Mmm mm.

Until then, lactobacillus is my best friend. Curd rocks!

Anyway, enough whining. The point is that hardly anyone knows about this disorder. This makes life more difficult than it already is for the affected, just like any other medical condition. I don’t know how many other people have this problem, I know just four or five others myself.

The lactose intolerant, are rare, just different and special. Treat with sensitivity. Amen to that :D

I hope this post proves to be at least an eye-opener for parents with children born with or having developed lactose intolerance. I will consider this post a success if it helps even one parent cope with the life that is to be. Any queries can be posted in the comments section. I’ll do my best to help you out.

Cheers

El Buscador.