Wow, the gluten-free diet does suck, does it not? From travelling, to going to PTA meetings with donuts-a-plenty, to visiting relatives who secretly hate you — there are a zillion ways things can go horribly awry. Which is why I have been amazed at my own ability to not eat gluten — intentionally, anyway — ever. Well, okay, there was that one time I drank a beer because I was slightly encouraged to give it a shot, on account of the lack of wheat. And I’m horrible at peer pressure. But I’m never going to do that again, because that was dumb.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered maybe my gluten-free diet isn’t so gluten-free after all. Did I say surprise? How about tears followed by raging anger followed by crazy regret at not making one ounce of that gluten count. I could have had croissants, people. Pastries!!!! It turns out, gluten really does sneak into you even when you think you’ve got its number. (It’s number, by the way, is 666.)
Yep, I had one of those follow-up endoscopy things today and guess what? I’m totally fucked!