I ate a little gluten yesterday. R and I escaped from the noisy house (the gigantic fans are still running 24 hours a day, trying to dry the place out) and went out to breakfast. My order came with an unexpected English muffin and I took a few bites of it.
I’m not sure why I did it. Was it curiosity? Did I want to see what would happen? I’ve been feeling horrible lately–depressed, exhausted, congested. I’m pretty sure I’ve got another sinus infection and my allergies have been attacking nonstop. Maybe I thought I might as well eat gluten because it couldn’t make me feel worse.
I was wrong.
Wow, was I wrong.
All of the pain in my joints that I’ve attributed to early-onset arthritis (diagnosed seven years ago) is back today. My knees ache. My fingers and toes hurt. And my stomach is upset. *sigh*
I suppose that’s good to know, especially as we head into the vacation that I am still determined to have. Chances were that I would have eaten gluten at some point during the trip, simply because it’s so hard to avoid. Now I’ll be reminded of the cost. But I am definitely feeling sorry for myself today. I wish it had at least been a chocolate cupcake or some really good French toast.
In nicer news, the insurance guy is coming this afternoon, so at least I can get that out of the way. I’ve never dealt with an insurance claim before so I’m not sure what to expect. I’d love to ask him author-type questions because it seems like it could be a really cool job for a character in a story–but maybe I’m basing that idea on the characters in Leverage rather than reality!