Hi, I'm Erica. I run this little shop in Arkansas, and I have alpha-gal syndrome — which is a fancy way of saying a tick bit me and now beef is my ex. We don't talk anymore. Neither do pork, bacon, or — and this one still stings — a good cheeseburger.If you're newly diagnosed and standing in the grocery store reading labels like they're legal contracts, welcome. You're in the right place, and no, you're not being dramatic. I cried next to the bacon once. The bacon understood.What alpha-gal...
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