Thursday, March 20, 2014

no carbs -- day whatever

No one likes talking about food as much as I do.  Even when I am talking about not eating food.

You know the drill from slipping past saint pat.  Dra. Rosa put me on a new drug and asked me to cut carbohydrates out of my diet -- to the extent I could.  In two weeks, I will have another blood test.

That appointment was on Saturday.  On Sunday, two big events occurred.  I started eating without carbohydrates, and I picked up my brother at the airport.

The two events have a tangential relationship.  Both of us are carbo boys.  Neither Darrel nor I care much for bread.  But we are pasta and rice addicts.  And, even though I am not very fond of sweets, I do indulge in my share of sugar from time to time.

On Sunday night, Darrel and I went to one of my favorite taco eateries.  We both forewent the obvious temptation and had grilled chicken breast.  And I must have encountered something additional, as well, someplace during the day.

That night, I had what a well-bred person would call intestinal distress.  But I am a bit more blunt (and descriptive) person.  In my parlance, I exploded from both ends for almost 24 hours.  The type of upset where it is futile to even attempt to drink something as simple as water.

Maybe that was part of my carbohydrate cleansing.  When I started eating again, I stuck religiously to Dra. Rosa's request.  At home, I have been eating my now-famous Greek salad as well as a cabbage soup I have always liked.

In checking the list of carbohydrate foods, I was not surprised to discover that a full shelf in my pantry will go unconsumed for two weeks.  You can see them hiding in the shadows at the top of this post.  Their future in two weeks is unknown.  (Yes.  Yes.  I know.  Dumping them now in the trash would be a boon for me.)

What has been a surprise is that even though I lose the crackers for my favorite snack, I can eat the extra sharp cheddar cheese and the pepperoni that goes on top.  And bacon.  Plus I get to eat my favorite chimichanga (with chili sauce, onion, bacon, and lots of
jalapeño peppers) as long as I dump the tortilla and eat it as an omelet filling.

I do confess, though, that old food associations die hard.  While eating both the cabbage soup and the Greek salad, I missed having a hunk of crusty bread for dipping.  And a diet soda.  Instead, I substituted air and water.

All of this will end up well.  Something is keeping my triglycerides at stratospheric levels.  Between the drugs and the death of carbohydrates, we may have an answer.

Right now, though, I would be more than happy to be entirely rid of this little bout of norvirus.  If that is what it is.

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