Maybe all my problems can be blamed on my pop. My medical problems that is. I have been wondering lately if perhaps my intestinal woe is nothing more (or less) than an ulcer. My boss and I were discussing this yesterday and she said I was the last person she would suspect of ever having ulcers. I am just too calm.
But isn't an ulcer better than anything requiring a colonoscopy to diagnose?
[Picture me shuddering]
I have had little variety in my diet since the big purge on Sunday. Today, I got home and decided a bagel with a bare minimum of peanut butter would be an acceptable risk. Last night I had pasta with spinach, shrimp and sundried tomatoes, not a good risk, so a bagel seemed harmless enough.
I ate it without incident and also had some mango. Then I took a nap and before going to see Beth and Irina tonight, I had a second bagel as I was still a little hungry.
We went to see our friends because it was time for me to hilite Irina's hair. While there we also watched the L Word (yawn) and Fat Actress (chuckle). While sitting there I started getting these crampy feelings in my stomach. It was definitely up in my stomache, too. Very localized. I was able to breathe through it much like you might breathe through a labor contraction.
It got me to thinking about when I was a kid and my dad was never found without a bottle of Mylanta in his upper shirt pocket.
So I am going to put peanut butter on the no list for the next bagel and see what happens. Then, I am going to concentrate on vacation and its close-but-not-close-enough proximity. This time next week I will be better, I swear (NYC awaits!)