I have to get blood tests done.

The thing is, I don't WANT to get them done. Because getting them done would mean finding out results and they're the sort of results I don't particularly feel in the mood to deal with.

No, it's not like AIDS, and I know I'm being silly and shallow by worrying about coeliac disease, Lupus and Sjorgren's Syndrome (oh wait, I'm not - they'll all be things that contribute to an early death, rapturous fun that is). I just don't want to find out I've got these kind of things.

For a start, I love pasta with a passion. And great sourdough breads. Coeliac disease would mean no more of this. Eat wheat and gluten free pasta and breads, I hear you say? Grate your tastebuds over some concrete, I say. Would you voluntarily eat them? They're revolting!

Then there's the increased potential for early death thing. And the not being able to lose weight, although it goes on just fine. And my God, this blog entry is turning into a pity party *throws around some streamers* Plus all of the changes that would have to be made to life and being so aware of what I eat, combined with the fact that it takes about a year on a coeliac-friendly diet for the effects to kick in, and then another five years for the cancer risks to be lowered.

I suppose I just need to suck it up and do it. If I can change my life now and, as a result, not die early, even if it means shunning the wonder that is wholemeal pasta, it'll be a good thing.

And sorry, just had to whinge about it. It's depressing me.