I’ve always thought of myself as a patient person, though recently I’ve realized, um, maybe not.

A chronic digestive issue has about worn me out. Over the past few years, I’ve tried various routines in hopes of fixing it and living a normal life. But I never seem to give the programs much of a chance. After three or four days with no improvement, I’d say, “See, it’s not the gluten. Give me a roll!” or “Well, it can’t be dairy. I want ice cream.”

Finally a month ago, I told myself a little self-control might be necessary. And though this particular diet isn’t any fun, it seems to be working. No dairy, no sugar, no wheat, no bad fat, no alcohol, no chocolate, no fruit juices, no corn, no tomato sauce, and limited raw vegetables. I know. What’s left?

When I first started, the hardest food item to give up was Gummy Bears. Yes, ever since I spent three years in Germany as a teenager, I’ve been addicted. But I think I’ve finally moved past my craving.

I’m hoping I won’t need to give up everything forever, but I am giving it enough time to give my belly a rest. And if I do need to give it up for good, I will.

There must be a life lesson in this somewhere.