Diary of a Low Budget Superhero

It's three minutes to midnight on Thursday. I've sipped my last drink of water until after my ultrasound in the morning. Gotta go in on an empty stomach.

Ultrasound?

Follow up:

Yesssss, I need to go in for an ultrasound.

Noooooo, nothing like what you're thinking.

It's to check out my gall bladder. I've had two pretty painful stomach aches recently, one back on the 7th and one this past Friday. The first one I blamed on having lunched on two hard boiled eggs from the salad bar at Stop N Shop. Rolling around in pain all night, vomiting, the whole nine. The weird thing was, after the stomach ache was all over, my whole midsection was still sore for a few days, tender to the point where I was unwilling to sleep on my stomach. I was just getting over that when it happened again -- and this time there were no salad bar eggs to blame. Joe thought that second bout was because I overdid Brussels sprouts, blueberries and whole grain gluten-free Vitalicious mini-muffins during my day of eating. Maybe. But I called and got a doc appointment.

Two things, and this is what I informed the doc I saw on Tuesday. First -- Weight Watchers means a dietary adjustment, far fewer empty calories from carbs, and an increase in leafy greens, fibre rich foods, whole grains. Second -- while these stomach aches may ONLY be my stomach reacting to all the veggies and whole grains in place of the much-easier-to-digest pasta etc, I did have that diverticulitis in 2003, and considering the result, I will never again ignore a stomach ache in my life. I'm sure you understand.

I can't believe the coincidence. I was JUST writing about health care reform and used as example my personal run-in with diverticulitis! What did I do, summon the dormant demon dogs of gastro hell? I said "stoma" three times and suddenly my goat herd? (Sorry, "my goat herd" comes from an old Hub-ism, we had this Indian friend who pronounced...you know what, side story too long, it means "my gut hurts," now let's move on).

I really hope it's nothing, because if it's something, that's just ten kinds of fucking annoying. The April I had that ruptured intestine I turned 33 (IN the hospital, Happy Birthday to me) and that marked a year since I had started a new health plan. I wasn't on an official program, I had just cut out most carbs, most dairy, any kind of packaged crackers or cookies. I ate lots of protein and veggies and fruit and I had lost 35 lbs. Even my brother (he's extremely concerned with looks) marveled and approved at my relative smallness. But nothing like being gutted like a sea bass and taken off fruits and veggies to put an end to that, and then when I was all better and could have any food again, I never did pick up the diet again. In the years since the surgery I gained ALL that 35 lbs back plus about another 50. I am ONE MONTH into what I want to be my final attempt at getting and staying slim, and now this? It's like every time I start to eat a lot of veggies and whole grains, my guts freak out in protest.

Jess wrote me on Facebook and said maybe it's like a "healing crisis." I'd never heard of this, but I pondered that awhile. Healing crisis. Hm...I get it. Like, have you ever smoked and then quit? I have. You know what? You hack up juicy lung nuggets for a week before you begin to breathe better. You may never have coughed while smoking, but the week you quit you sound like you're about to fucking cough up Bea Arthur. And what about the caffeine headaches people must endure when they quit coffee?

My nutritionist did say that all those pasta carbs I love, they're essentially "partially digested for you." So, if I was eating pasta and bread and bagels and grilled cheeses too often (and I was) my stomach didn't have to work as hard to digest as it now must do with this new increase of leeks and peppers and kale and Brussels sprouts and spinach.

It COULD just be that.

Or it could be demons.

I will let you know.