Jon’s health drama/uncertainty continues. Turns out the new doctor read everything from MI and doesn’t necessarily agree with the celiac diagnosis.

He wasn’t happy with the pathology report – and elaborated that Jon was given the most unreliable antibody test (of 3 options, I think?).

He did the genetic testing today, so we’ll have a definitive answer soon.

Also on tap? An MRI and a colonoscopy and a possible referral to an immunologist.

Fun times.
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Breakfast was simple this morning.

I’m not sure what happened to the rest of the morning – but I didn’t eat again until I felt slightly hungry as I walked out to go to the gym around 2PM – so I had a small snack on the way and hoped it wouldn’t make me puke.

My next meal happened when I got home from the gym.

(I bought a basil plant today just so I can continue on with my love for this meal with ease – and because it seemed ridiculous that I was constantly buying something I used to effortlessly grow.)

Another meal happened around 5:30 when I learned that Jon wasn’t coming straight home from work (meaning: the chicken he intended to roast would be happening much later).

The crackers I ate all day?

Dinner happened after we spent some time doing yard stuff (meaning: WAY later than usual given our standard earlyish bedtime). (Jon roasted a chicken + roasted brussel sprouts.)


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I’ve been reunited with an old friend.

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I remember when I was terrified. Absolutely refused to even try.

I am not a huge fan of spending hours on machines – but I definitely have a fond affinity going on here. I wanted to be able to walk up stairs and walk all over my hilly campus without dying back in 2008 – so this is how I started that quest.

I’ve sort of missed the monotony of it.

I sent Jon to bodypump early this morning as my guinea pig – with instructions that I needed a full report and rundown of everyone/everything involved.

He thinks it’s weird that I am perfectly comfortable (and love) working in maximum-security facilities with (legally) insane people but won’t go to gym classes by myself or without prior extensive knowledge/some level of comfort – but it is what it is.

I doubt I’ll ever fully shake the discomfort and feeling of not belonging that accompanies gyms, but maybe.

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