It’s time for my to update whether I want to or not .

I went to see the doctor this morning. Last week I made sure they knew I needed to get in and out very quickly, I even made the girl scheduling the appointment note it in the records, and true to their word I got right in having the 8 a.m. appointment.

Which leads to the negative side. I sat there for about an hour before someone stuck their head in and said, “The doctor isn’t here yet. We are trying to call him to see if he is planning on coming in.”

A little later, “He was sick yesterday but told us he would be here today.”

And even later, “We are going to send another doctor in to cover him. I hope that’s okay.”

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I called the BYU Health Services today and set up and appointment. The reason for the appointment was to be tested for Celiac Disease. This, for those who don’t know anything about it, is a disease where the body does not process gluten and the walls of the small intestine are damaged. Fortunately, the walls of the small intestine can heal themselves; unfortunately, if it turns out that I suffer from this malady I will have to change my diet… again.

Seems I made a shift of diet about a year ago when I went to the hospital as a result of severe abdominal pains. Now, I’ve never had appendicitis and, honestly, feel as though I am a pretty solid wall when it comes to that, but the outcome, after being poked and prodded and stuck and scanned every which way to Sunday – and then back again – that I needed to eat more whole grains and fiber. Whole grains generally means wheat derivatives. Imagine that, I follow doctors orders and next thing I know I am still in a world of hurt, Andy and Debbie change their dietary regimes to help me, and the whole time there is a better than even chance that they were helping to make the problem worse.

I was set on this information by Rebecca when she told me that I needed to look into gluten intolerance. There is actually no such thing as gluten intolerance or gluten allergies. You aren’t allergic to wheat or similar products, your body doesn’t process them.

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I’ve been trying to think of what to write about. For the past couple of days I’ve sat down with fingers on keys, eyes on screen, ready to write an entry for the blog and, for whatever reason, I’ve not found anything even remotely interesting to write about. I mean, I could write how my life feels like it is not going in the direction I want it to go, but that would probably be a lie. I went out on one date, a few weeks ago, and then back into the holding pit waiting for some divine sign to strike me and encourage me to get out and do something about my single status. But even that is a bit superfluous as it doesn’t really apply to what is happening in my life.

What is happening in my life? That is a question I guess I want answered.

Last weekend I skipped a snow caving trip because I felt under the weather and then went home and slept for about 75% of the weekend. Not exactly a great beginning, or ending, for a long weekend where many of the people I know left town, booked their honeymoon, studied, or did something. I don’t feel as though I’ve really done anything and yet here I am, sitting here, wishing that the weekend would’ve been better than it was.

In the process of being sick all weekend I finally put the death nail in the coffin that is my life and have no recourse but to retake French in the fall. Amazing, isn’t it, how one little thing like the body demanding sleep leads to absolute failure in one subject. I’m doing fine everywhere else, but not there. It’s frustrating to me and at the same time I am at peace at the notion of not doing as well as I would expect from myself.

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I was supposed to go ice-caving today and tomorrow but had to beg out because I am having some problems with my gut that, for me, precludes putting myself through activities that I, instinctively, feel would put me in greater distress than if I just stayed home.

Well, I felt bad about not going. It happens. Especially after speaking to the professors and several of the students and as a result of that decided that I should probably go up to where they were camping (this evening) and see how everyone is. So, after school and work, I went up the canyon and found the BYU vans and then walked in (in snow shoes) to where they’d built four separate snow caves. After stopping in to see the largest of the snow caves (four girls) I was elected as the unofficial judge over a fictitious snow cave competition and got to go and check out all of the caves. Some were definitely more roomy than others, but for the most part, they appeared to all be very nice and well built structures. By tomorrow they will be solid and the group will take a picture on the top of one of them.

In the process of all this I also got to deliver messages, make sure one of the girls was okay (she went injured) and get wet and a little cold. Had I really been thinking before going up I’d've worn a pair of waterproof pants, but at the same time I wasn’t expecting to crawl into all four caves a couple of times a piece.

The outcome was that I went up, felt like I’d had an experience with the group, chatted and then got to come back down the mountain.

This is a long weekend. Some holiday (non-religious) on Monday which allows me to have an extra day to learn to speak more French, to do homework, and to get a bit more rest than I am currently used to.

In order for me to graduate from BYU with a bachelors of arts in English, BYU requires that I take four semesters of a language. One language. I chose French. I don’t know exactly all of the reasons I chose to take this language, a lot of my life is spent with a notion or an idea of something and when I really think about it, I think, “French is the language of literature,” and that is true. I have dedicated my life to literature and as such, there is some idea of semblance that you take French in order to augment understanding of a particular language or culture.

On top of the decision to take the language, I also discovered that I can’t just sit down and suddenly start learning this particular thing. Language, though not completely lost to me, is not coming wicked easily. In fact, after five weeks in an eight week course, I am currently bombing the class. I am failing rather miserably. The only positive thing is that I am starting to get it, but not because I haven’t spent hours studying and hundreds of dollars to augment what is being taught in the classroom.

My first purchase, just to understand rules, was two books on French Grammar rules. You gotta know the rules. However, what I think I am learning is that knowing the rules before you know what the rules apply to negates knowing the rules. You start to over-think the whole process. So, I began learning why things happened without know what was happening.

Then, I did a little bit of research and came across some software that purported to teach people French better than anything else. Reviewing the material through various forums and website and sure enough, it seemed that most people who used it felt that it had helped. And, I feel that it helps. But after the second purchase I am still struggling with the class.

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