The Waiting Game

I can't eat what....

flour. Unless of course its made from corn. Yikes, could this really be the reason for all of my problems? At this moment, I am a bit depressed, excited, and willing to try anything to stop my health roller coaster ride. So Theresa went on the Gluten-Free Diet yesterday. It should be interesting to say the least, but it's only getting rid of one food group, so there are still things I can eat. The fun will be trying things I've refused over the last 40 years. And according to my MIL, I must now eat.....are you ready for it?......maybe only had a few bites of this in a lifetime..........but she insists........that I eat RICE.

Theresa shakes her head, turns up her nose, and prays for an alternative, knowing there isn't one, at least not in Lebanon. There is bread made from corn, and I will probably buy it and try it, but that requires driving to a different city.

And honestly, driving in Lebanon is dangerous to one's health. I kid you not. Not once we have driven to the city and not passed an accident, and half are fatal. I mean why wear a seatbelt? It's only a decoration for the vehicle anyway. And you don't need speed limits, or lane markers, by all means make your own lane, beep your horn and push past everyone in front of you. You own the road. I rant, happens.

Got the crown in. Woots for a full set of teeth! It feels strange, and I wonder if it's in correctly. I'm used to having some pain for a week, but there isn't any, it's not even sore. Strange really. I digress........back to the health issues.

Ok, so my wonderful mother emails me last night, and I must say that woman loves me. Found websites dedicated to gluten-free foods, and also, a link for Celiac Disease. Hmm, I read it, thrust myself into that website, and the more I read, the more convinced I am that this is what I have. Blood tests will come back on Monday, but honestly, ding....ding...ding...we have a winner! And at least I know it's not STRESS as my doctor at home likes to tell me. That witch will get the boot come September 1st. Her hubby must have taken her exams, and she opened her own practice just so they could make extra money. Or, her license came from a cracker jack box,--you decide. In her case, MD stand for Mentally Deranged.

Tonight I am off to Awkar. The home of the American Embassey, and Lon I'm so excited to have a face-to-face with a fellow WDC-er. Is it strange that I have no idea what she looks like? Well I'll find out in a few short hours. Thinking of taking my camera and getting a pic of the two of us to post. As long as she agrees of course. Just wish my face wasn't still red. The damn sunburn is taking it's time fading to a nice bronze. And it hurts.

After the doctors appt. yesterday, while walking back to my MIL's house, I saw this dress.....purple of course.......so awesome. Mehadine and hubby get me to go inside and try one on. Well, it's was small, I knew it the second I had to do some extra tugging over my breasts. That is the majority of all my clothing dilema's. My friggin boobs are too big. I so am looking forward to reduction surgery next year. Anyway, so I open the door, announce that it's small. But wait............she rushes into the stall, and begins to zip up the side. And then calls her helper to help force my boobies into the gown. And guess what? That bitch took a chunk of skin from the side of ta-ta's and didn't even care. I now have a four-inch long zipper mark on me.

As if I am not suffering enough. I told hubby last night as we checked it out in front of the mirror......."Was she that desperate for a sale?" I mean seriously. I told her it was small, I knew it, I know my own body, and how my girls are issues. But NNNNOOOOO. Some people should be smacked upside the head on occasion. Might just knock some sense into them.

Wish me luck on my quest to better my health. I certainly need it.

Peace Out...