So at coffee break, when we all walked down the block to a coffee shop, I told him I got my test results back. I seriously deliberated for the longest time over when to bring it up and how, but that's how. So I told all the guys I work with about the diagnosis, and we talked about it for a bit, and then it turns out one of the guys has been gluten-free for a year and a half! And not only did I not know, but the two guys who actually spend time with him after work didn't know. That gave me hope, because he's not one of those obnoxious about gluten people, so why do I have to be?
It also made me feel better than now they know why I've missed work, and why I seem so bedraggled some mornings.
Anyways, the afternoon was really rough because I felt all bloaty and gassy. It takes some time to clean out all the gluten, and more time to heal up my damaged intestine, so I know I won't feel top shelf right away, I just wish I could stop feeling so goshdarn awful.
That all meant I was pretty grumpy when I got home, but we had to pick up a prescription for my husband and then stop by his parents' place and tell them. So I was even more grumpy when it came time to make dinner. And apparently, being grumpy means not cooking, because I had a premade salad and some gluten-free crackers and cheese. Oh, and the crackers tasted weird.