The Gall of It All

This is going to get a little graphic, so the squeamish among us should avert their eyes. Nothing X-rated or sexy coming (more's the pity). No, it's all...uh, more digestively related.

I've been to see a doctor about my "condition."

What's that, you ask? Well, it's what I thought was a common occurrence among people who eat a lot of veggies and beans. Ahem.

I've tried Beano, I've tried Gas-X. I've tried homeopathic charcoal caps. And yet still there are moments when I could fill in for the entire tuba section of the Boston Pops. I could be my own Macy's Day Parade balloon with all the self-produced nitrogen.

At a certain point, one has to accept that the "condition" is just not normal. That is to say, even on a diet known to produce tremendous flatulence, there is a Rubicon to be crossed. When you surpass the maximum average output known to mankind and begin to match that of a cow -- a ruminate creature with FIVE stomachs -- then you know you have a problem.

According to the tummy doc I consulted on Wednesday night, it's my gall bladder. Exactly what -- inflammation, a stone, actual gall bladder disease -- we don't know.

Actually we don't know that it IS my gall bladder. But now I have to go through a battery of tests to find out. All I can say is ICK.

If my alternatives weren't so crap -- basically spend the rest of my life as a walking, human Whoopee Cushion -- I'd gracefully bow out of this.

I hate having to undergo pokes and prods. But if there's one glimmer of hope that one day I can regain the ability to digest even a simple salad, I must pursue it. My diet right now consists of yogurt, cottage cheese, and...er, yogurt.

Positive notes: My newfangled orthotics are here! Going to a fitting on Monday. They came in a few days after I read a NYTimes article on... (you know it's coming) how useless orthotics are for foot problems. Riiiiiighhht. Tell me this after I spent $400, you jerks.

But I will try them, because it can't hurt and they are paid for.

And because my stomach hurts, I will go get my blood tests and sonograms and everything else the doctor wants. But I draw the line at an endoscopy and/or colonoscopy right away, because there will be no intruding into the inner sanctums until I'm convinced it's medically necessary.

Other Positive Note: the skinny jeans definitely are looser this week. Still not quite as loose as they were last Xmas but better than two months ago. I'm a few pounds away from being back where I was.

That. Is. GOOOOOOOOD.

On a bad note, the stupid stomach doc weighed me at the end of the day, after I'd eaten, with full clothes on AND massive LL Bean workboots borrowed from my nephew that weigh at least 4lbs each.

I swear, that doctor is lucky he escaped the examining room alive after that disaster.

Will be checking in with all of you over the weekend. Hope everyone is well!

Master Fat Madness

Tonight, a longstanding kitchen mystery was solved. It is something I wish I had never seen -- something that cannot be unseen.

M has long had a habit (that I've never condoned) of gathering leftover bacon grease and storing it in (what used to be) a favorite coffee cup. He sits this goupy gelatinous mess in a corner of the kitchen window. At certain points, it disappears. And then returns.

I assumed when it got close to full he disposed of it in the trash, and then started anew. I never asked, being kind of grossed out by it, but figured he had to collect the grease somewhere because it was too hot to immediately throw in the trash after he cooked his bacon. And I just figured it wasn't a good idea to send such glop down our pipes, so that's why he didn't dispose of it in the sink.

Well, the veil has been lifted and the full horror of the fat revealed. He has been putting it in our food!!!!!

Yes, apparently this is a "thing" done by many big chefs and most Southern households. One collects all the grease from cooking meat (and other offal) and stores it, to use as flavoring or rendering in other dishes. Real chefs throw grease in from whatever they are cooking -- a mix-and-match of all types of fat (aka, 'master fat').

Tonight I caught M dabbing some of his disgusting brown fat goop into my spinach, onion, garlic and mushroom mixture. Oh, the humanity!!! And the calories!!!

I wonder how many extra calories in brown fat I've consumed every time we ate M-prepared quinoa, beans, or anything veg-related? What kind of a nut does that?

It reminds me of the time my friend couldn't figure out where all her butter was going. It seemed to fly out of her kitchen. Finally she realized her foodie husband was slathering everything he cooked in the stuff. She gained 5 lbs while he lost a ton of weight -- turns out he'd developed Type 1 diabetes and kept losing weight no matter what he ate, even a pound of butter a day.

So, I can go back and recalculate my calories for every meal eaten over the past year or so, or make sure M understands he is NEVER to put brown fat on my food again.

To top it all off, my weekend in Boston was great but I burned almost zero calories (that with long bus rides up and back). The only time we moved was ice skating at the Frog Pond (so beautiful).
I checked how many calories I burned...about 230. Yeah. About the same amount of calories you'd find in a tablespoon of brown fat.

But overall, the trip was grand. We had so much fun, and I didn't overeat. Struggling back into the regular routine, sans master fat (I hope).