Ever since I started eating organic I suspect food for all my ills. Yesterday after breakfast I felt overcome with a wave of fatigue. I assumed my regular thinking position, and when I woke up my neck was so stiff I couldn't turn my head to either side. I felt like the Tin Man. Oil can! Oil can! I suddenly felt compelled to head for the bathroom, just in time for a particularly noxious and exciting gastrointestinal event, the details of which shall remain thankfully undisclosed. Wow, I thought to myself. I'm dying!
Food has always been my nemesis. From the time I walked around the house with little donuts stacked up on all my fingers, food has had power over me. Mom used to reward me with my very own box of Ho-Hos. (Mmmmmm, Ho-Hos. Do they still make them?) I learned that food could be a good friend, probably by watching my father find his comfort in food. After I moved to Los Angeles I went off the deep end, living to eat, counting the minutes until my next meal. After awhile that got tiresome. Then I met a man who didn't mind my chunky ass, and the food compulsion gave way to other compulsions.
Now I've given up every food that used to bring me pleasure: pizza, lasagna, ice cream, crackers, potato chips, oat meal... sugar, wheat, corn, dairy, bread, rice, pasta, tofu, soy milk, rice milk, lentils... for god's sake. What's left, you might ask? I'll tell you what is left: Vegetables. Chicken. Eggs. Fish. Fruit. Water. I eat to live now. I sure don't live to eat. When I find myself craving ice cream, I picture a parfait glass filled with layers of gravel and dirt with green antifreeze and motor oil poured on top. Pretty. But not very nourishing. I suppose if I learned how to cook I could make things tasty. But who cares. It's only food, just calories to convert to energy so I can function.
A half hour after googling my symptoms, I was still alive. Ho hum. I went to bed early, slept for 10 hours, and today I feel fine, a little watery, a little stiff, but very much alive, so probably it wasn't anything serious. Probably just a touch of food poisoning. It was most likely either the salmon I ate on Saturday or the fancy restaurant food I ate on Friday night. I'd like to blame the fish, since I hate to eat fish—I only eat it because Doc Tony says I must in order to stay healthy—but I'd rather blame the restaurant food. I felt a little dizzy after I ate it—usually a sign of a food additive, like a preservative or flavor enhancer. But the dizziness went away, and I felt fine on Saturday.
I'd like to say that eating at restaurants is worth the risk of food poisoning. The older I get though, the less willing I am to spend three days suffering for an hour of gastronomic pleasure. It's gotta be good company or really delicious food to risk the possibility of a negative outcome. Friday night it was worth the company. Plus I wanted to check out the new cafe in my 'hood. Ok. Now that I know the menu, I have no problem abstaining. What food is worth the risk? I'm not sure. Potato chips, maybe. Mmmmmm, potato chips.
Time for dinner. Lettuce, roasted beets, carrots, avocado, pan-grilled salmon, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Sounds good? Every day, for the rest of your life? Hey, it could be worse. My allergy-plagued brother had to survive on turkey, rice, and water for years before his immune system rebounded. I'm lucky. No sugar, oh, poor me.
