It’s a year now since I went off on my big oxalate witch hunt, finally taking the need to reduce them out of my diet seriously after a couple of false starts; see my various other posts on this topic for more on that. For a long time (almost three years after first learning about them!) I really didn’t want to hear that reducing oxalates in my diet might be the answer to some of my prayers, health-wise, but a year into doing what I can to eliminate the highest oxalate foods most, if not all, of the time (I removed the highest culprits such as spinach, almonds, sweet potato, beetroot completely), where have I got to?

Well, it’s only in hindsight that I notice some remarkable things have occurred this last year, the sum total of which is that, ironically, reducing oxalates (which are to be found lurking in high quantities in some pretty normal everyday foods…chocolate being one of them) has allowed me to “normalise” my life considerably compared to the previous decade and I don’t just mean in terms of dealing with symptoms such as higher pain levels and inflammation and including horrible effects such as brain fog, which used to be the blight of my life (now, thankfully, rare).

Before that, I was that weird person who had to constantly say “no” to certain kinds of food and drink that other people take completely for granted, alcohol and sugar being two of them. It’s not that these contain oxalates as such (though sugar converts to glycolate, a precursor to oxalate…) but that my constantly flared-up mast cell status just couldn’t cope with any other provocation (you can read about the MCAS and oxalate intolerance connection on mast cell expert Beth O’Hara’s website). Up to that point I’d all but stopped drinking alcohol for around 8 years (I gave up completely for six of those and now only had the occasional sip, the equivalent to a toast, for special occasions) and never went near anything with sugar in it…or I would inevitably live to rue the consequences afterwards. Wine was something I now sipped from an espresso-sized cup on the odd occasion that I really felt like some (and red only…there was no way could I tolerate white since I would be floored with an immediate chemical headache and crashed serotonin) or I could probably manage gin but usually not the mixer that went with it. Beers and ciders were completely out of the question (cider is high in histamines). Though I used to be a big drinker of beer in my youth, that was the first intolerance to suddenly hit me, about 3 to 5 years before my health utterly crashed, manifesting as crashed serotonin as soon as it touched my lips (abruptly lowered mood is a signal I use that allergy is present) and the most toxic headaches imaginable so I have no intention of returning to that.

It was a fairly short time…maybe a month…after significantly reducing oxalates and getting past some of the worst dumping symptoms, that I first noticed I could now manage more than a sip of wine. This might sound like a retrograde step but, come on, most people enjoy the occasional drink and it’s something that makes you feel part of family life and other social occasions plus I never go crazy with quantity these days as I don’t like the consequences. However, the simple act of sharing wine over dinner has really been a huge morale boost these last few months compared to all those many years of drinking water, especially as someone who is passionate about grape varieties and who genuinely loves the palette of a good bottle of red as an accompaniment to food (before I became so ill I was that person who went on wine tours in Italy and who collected a few good bottles from my trips). It almost brought me to tears of joy to resume this enthusiasm from time to time and I’m still extremely grateful for it because its such a novelty compared to the life I had before.

Sometime after that first experiment with wine, I tried gin again and found that not only could I tolerate it very well but that it didn’t give me the immediate low mood that it had been giving me before I stopped. Gin is a low histamine alcohol option so it seemed like a good fall-back drink for me, though its the mixers you put it with that can often be the real problem. Combined with a no added sugar or sweetener tonic (I often carry my own fructose-only, no nasty additives, can of Fevertree Light around with me as an emergency measure when I go out), this turn of events has given me another option for when I socialise and has been a real life boon, not least because it allows me to relax more when I am out since uptight muscles in social situations (because of the social component itself combined all the environmental triggers) only ever leads to more muscle pain. One or two drinks can help with that and put me on a similar footing as the people I’m with.

Much more recently…by which I mean this month…I’ve been able to add good quality cider (though not the still cloudy ones which will be very high histamine!) back into the mix, which is impressive since cider could always really stir up my mast cells, with immediate effects…which tells me mine are so much more under control than before. For a guide to the lowest histamine, oxalate etc alcohol drinks and mixers, Beth O’Hara has this handy information but, to be fair, I’ve simple used trial and error this year and seem to have reached a place where I know what works and what doesn’t for me.

Another amazing effect of my low-oxalate year has been that I was able to dare to try sweet treats from time to time from late summer last year and without any noticeable consequences. This is quite incredible (though not necessarily for my wasteline!) because, for years, even half a teaspoon of sugar seemed to wield the power to floor me with vastly increased pain, especially neuralgic headaches, plus huge crashes of energy, even wild heart palpitations. I would have to scour packets of savoury food for any signs of the ever ubiquitous sugar hidden by manufacturers in sauces and pre-packaged salads, ketchups, gravies, cereals…you name it, it gets in everywhere…and I could often detect when it was in the recipe, usually after the event of eating it or when someone swopped around the brands without telling me!

It was about late July last year, when we were visiting a garden near our old home one sunny afternoon and they had delicious looking homemade lemon cake on the tea stand that was both gluten and nut, even chocolate, free (happy days), that I suddenly thought “sod it I really want a slice of that”…so I did and it went down a treat, with no after effects to speak of. After that, I tried the odd piece of cake a few times when we were on our early days travels after moving to our new location (since all the interesting places we were visiting weekend after weekend would inevitably have cake on offer) and it almost moved me to tears to be able to, finally, say yes to this side of life instead of watching my husband guiltily munch his way through a slice of something and me having to pull an oat cracker out of my bag. It felt so life-affirming, combined with us finally having moved location at last, and its no exaggeration to say that, at first, I was delirious about it, claiming my favourite tea and coffee shops and looking forward to going there from time to time.

This became such a success that, I admit, for a while it almost turned into a bad habit but I’ve calmed myself down now…though the thrill of being able to say yes to an occasional sweet treat still hasn’t worn off (this includes simple things like enjoying a small tub of icecream at the cinema…also no longer having to manically scan the packet for dextrose, glucose etc though I still avoid artificial sweeteners such as aspartame…or having a gluten free biscuit with coffee). The summary is that I’ve been able to finally relax and enjoy these things in a way that other people take for granted instead of constantly fearing very-severe payback in terms of worsened symptoms in my body afterwards.

So another effect is I’m far less vigilant when eating out than for a good long decade beforehand and this couldn’t have come at a better time since travel has forced us to do a whole lot more of it lately. I remember, a short while ago, stopping to appraise just how spontaneous we had been lately when it came to finding places to eat or source our food (this was while we were still Airbnb-ing our way to our new home) and realising that we just couldn’t have done this whole move-house thing, including all the moving around, if I had been forced to watch my diet so darned carefully like I used to have to do, prior to reducing oxalates. My sensitivities used to be so severe and drive me to such a high degree of control-freakishness that it all made my life very small and highly stressful. Ironically, being vigilant for high oxalates isn’t such a headache, compared to the way I was, since I know which prime-culprit foods to avoid and there are generally other options to be had; its really not that hard compared to being sensitive to almost everything you eat, including hidden ingredients, as I was before.

A big factor, and this does relate to oxalates, is that I also went back to eating meat a year ago. Having been vegetarian for over a decade and vegan for five years, this was no small decision but remaining so was an impossibility given I was now having to eliminate or avoid so many vegan staples because of their high oxalate content. No beetroot or sweet potatoes, no nuts (apart from I can get away with the occasional walnut), very few pulses apart from butter beans, no soy, no spinach, far less rice than I used to have and I have to avoid the brown kind altogether, no quinoa, significantly reduced white potatoes, many gluten free cereal substitutes now out of the question…imagine dealing with all that and still trying to be plant-based!

Combined with an increased call for calcium to help process oxalates out of my body, I returned to eating cheese with gusto last Easter and then added in, at first, fish followed swiftly by chicken, later some pork and I now very occasionally have beef (I try not to overdo this, though I have noticed occasional red meat seems to stabilise me for a few days; this was really noticeable the first time I had it). By the way, I only ever purchase the highest welfare, grass fed, free range, organic etc produce, no shortcuts and I’m very discerning where and how I am prepared to eat meat when I’m out, no highly processed products if I can avoid them.

I credit this one huge change in my diet with a dramatic restabilisation of my health, I mean a really altered sense of grounded resilience that was badly lacking for a lot of years and in fact diminishing year-on-year since I went fully plant based, which strongly suggests that kind of diet simply wasn’t for me, even with all the necessary supplements to boost me. So I now also suspect that I’m just one of those people who can’t seem to absorb key nutrients such as B12 and l-carnitine plus all those other crucial amino acids, from supplements but, rather, need to obtain them from actual protein sources through my diet. The fact of my having to supplement amino acids for quite a long time to help control pain and mood, ADHD symptoms and anxiety, and to help diet, sleep and relaxation etc. (I’ve written before about this) tells me this component of my diet is crucial to the way my nervous system is wired and I’m hoping the need for supplements will now reduce year on year. Having cautiously reintroduced eggs late in 2022, I returned to eating those with gusto last year and, while there is always a tipping point if I eat them every day (at some point my stomach generally becomes unhappy with all the increased sulphur so I can’t go overboard) I do certainly benefit from having eggs a few times per week and wouldn’t be without them now, for the amino acid, choline and protein support they give me.

So that’s all made for a really interesting year in hindsight and if I really wanted to test the oxalate theory (believe me, my monkey mind has wanted to doubt it a few times so that it can just go back to all the food I’ve had to eliminate!) the severe consequences, whenever I’ve lapsed, have been enough to convince me that I’m on the right track. Just the other day, I weakened by allowing myself a large slice of chocolate brownie when we were travelling back from a funeral…something in me just seemed to give way in the circumstances…and, I have to say, the cake was the most delicious thing I could remember eating and I felt completely justified in my decision at the time. However, the massively increased pain levels I had for the next few days, including the most debilitating brain fog I had had in months and such debilitating joint pain I could hardly stand by the second day, plus another symptom I get after an oxalate-avoidance lapse being incredibly sore gritty eyes like acidic sand is coming out of them (oxalate dumping!) were quite enough to convince me I’d made a mistake. The same thing happened post Christmas since I “allowed” myself a few chocolates for a few days, only to bitterly rue the consequences when it took a good month to settle my symptoms down again.

I’m hoping I will now get over my love-hate affair with chocolate once and for all, accepting that the consequences just aren’t worth it for me…not even at Easter when all the advertising and family traditions tell me I should be eating it (oh how the relentless chocolate advertising campaign hots up at this time of the year). Instead, I’m trying to focus all my gratitude on the gains as I notice all the other positive changes since this time last year and get to appreciate just how normalised my diet now is, not so much in comparison with other people (that’s not so important to me) but with what I genuinely prefer and with what makes me happy in my life, which is the most important thing to me. My life has got a whole lot easier and I have so many more choices compared with before.

Which is no small things as being the one who had to always plan ahead or hum and haw when invited anywhere, who had to speak to the caterers before every wedding or funeral, who constantly presented that worst of challenges “I’m both vegan and gluten free at the same time” to every thoroughly unimpressed pub landlord when we tried to eat out was one hell of a burden to live with…so being able to put all that behaviour down, finally, is no small burden off my shoulders. Now, we get turn up at places spontaneously and be the least awkward ones when we show up (it’s harder finding places to eat for my vegan daughter than for me these days and she often has to request meals be adapted whereas I can generally pick something straight off the menu). Sometimes the gluten, soy and nuts factor can be a challenge to avoid all together but less so than my old issues, given caterers are so much more geared to address these well-known “allergens” than for oxalates (who’s even heard of oxalates?) which I seldom have to mention by name as I can simply say “no spinach for me” or “I don’t like beetroot, please leave it off my plate”. When I do eat out, I’m no longer floored for days on end afterwards (I used to have to factor in a good week’s worth of recovery time), in fact I can even eat out twice in a day without consequences and rebound so much more quickly from the food side of every social event than I used to, which at least gives me one less thing to factor in when it comes to pacing my social life in order to avoid crashes or burnout.

A side point is, am I generally less sensitive; are environmental sensitivities better than they used to be? Apparently they are since I now use a cellphone with realative impunity (I still don’t overdo it, the biggest issue being that localised nerve pain or risk of headache can increase). I now have my phone off “airplane mode” a whole lot more than I was ever able to do before…which used to be a tolerance factor of just a few minutes if I was expecting a particular call…and I also handle my phone a lot more than I was able to do before rather than feeling like handling a red-hot brick of pain. I can also sit in the same room with a wifi router without noticeable issues (we used to use wired connections only in our old house but wifi is more convenient, let’s face it!) and am far less aware of EMF when I’m out and about unless it becomes excessive (I can still tell when we drive past a clutch of pylons or if bluetooth is activated on a device nearby but the rest is just normal to me now). In fact, I have to try and monitor my use of EMF-pumping devices these days as my ADHD inability to put on the brakes will usually mean I overdo it long before I get any severe physical symptoms to warn me these days.

So are oxalates related to EMF sensitivity? A possible link has been suggested many times and, as oxalate expert Sally Norton points out in this interview, oxalates hold an electronic charge that can probably mess with the electronics of the human body. My own experiences seem to match with this: I honestly thought I was doomed to avoid EMF forever until I almost forgot I had an issue with them this year (thank goodness) and I would also like to add that my sensitivity to other environmental factors has lessened, for instance putting up with paint fumes for a while or being exposed to mould spores doesn’t guarantee that I will be floored. We recently met up with some people for a meal in a pub where the room we were in was a fairylight and bare lightbulb lit cave…no natural daylight, just a room carved out of sandstone which made up in novelty for the dank, rather mildewy smell in the space, not to mention an industrial sized dehumidifier whirring away in the corner. I would have run from such a place a short time ago as it would have been guaranteed to trigger the histamine explosion of all time but we actually enjoyed a leisurely Sunday lunch in there with no adverse effects for me. Of course, we are now living with far less pollutants on our doorstep than before we moved so that too will be having a positive effect.

Also, can a lower oxalate diet help with hypermobility? In the same interview with Sally Norton, she observes how hypermobility is affecting so many younger generation people suddenly as the use of tech increases and points out that “oxalic acid is the kind of acid that slices through collagen and fibers and breaks them up” and that “we see this a lot with the oxalate poisoning where the connective tissue makes joints unstable” with the example of a woman she treated with a low oxalate diet who was bedridden and couldn’t even brush her own teeth but who can now do that as well as walk down the stairs. My own hypermobility has really ebbed and flowed this year, with bouts of being much worse and then much more stable than for a long time (I would never have coped with the physical aspects of moving house if I hadn’t had these much stronger phases compared to the previous year) so I wonder if this correlates with periods of oxalate dumping followed by improvement as things level out again; I will have to see how that continues to go as the clear-out of oxalates from my tissues continues.

Going back to the original topic, the ability to eat out more, to try out new places and different things, to say yes to things more often and not alway fret about how I will keep myself energetically stable without a survival kit in my bag, has really helped to systematically relax me and has become a really profound lifestyle enhancement. My body still experiences a much heightened level of daily pain to what is considered “normal”, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t feel out of control the way it was before and I live in hope of steady improvements as time goes on. I can also still feel like a walking early-warning system compared to most people (I suspect that’s just a penalty of my high sensitivity) but that’s not the same as experiencing a weird or painful bodily reaction or sudden dose of POTs that floors me every time I clock anything, though I still have to be mindful about how too much exposure can trigger increased pain.

If a few food types such as chocolate, spinach and almonds have to be the casualties of this then it’s a small price to pay overall, especially when put alongside what I think has been a case of massively stabilised health status overall. Of course, this is just my personal experience and we all respond differently to our dietary foibles, even an issue with oxalates can manifest in many different ways as you can read about in plenty of sources, but if my shared experiences offer hope to anyone else considering a lower oxalate diet or seeking the willpower to continue with it, that’s exactly why I thought I would write about it!

Disclaimer: This blog, it’s content and any material linked to it are presented for autobiographical, general interest and anecdotal purposes only. They are not a substitute for medical advice, diagnosis, treatment, or prescribing. Opinions are my own based on personal experience. Please seek medical advice from a professional if you are experiencing any symptoms that concern you.