Monday, 30 April 2012

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful

But you are so pretty. Pretty in all your chocolately, brownie gooeyness. More beautiful than Samantha Brick, imagine what gifts I would lavish on you if I didn’t want to just scoff you with a nice cup of tea.

I love food. I would like to blame my parents for refusing to take us to fast food outlets when we went to the ‘big city’, preferring to indulge their adult tastes instead dragging us with them developing our young palates along the way. But I read somewhere that once you are over 30 you can’t blame your parents anymore. Time to own your own s*#@.

The problem? I love food, love baking (I know! Surprise!), love trying new things but I don’t like the way it makes me feel. I am not talking from a weight perspective; though I may touch on that later depending on how deep I want to go. But I mean how all that deliciousness makes me feel afterwards. The cramps, the stabbing pain, the heartburn, the way it comes back to greet me if I burp and er, let’s just say the urgency it can cause.

I have been tested for lactose, glucose, fructose and godtose what else, and apparently no major issues, but IBD sprinkled with a healthy does or IBS with a resection chaser means that sometimes my food (or even water) just doesn’t want to play nice.

Is it all in your head the gastro will ask? After I have told him where to go (in my head) I explain I am not sure how bolting two blocks just to make it home before the explosion is in my head. Are they hinting at an eating disorder? It feels like it at times when the specialist and the counsellor hint not so subtlety. The disorder is feeling hungry but feeling like rubbish afterwards. Crohn's affects everyone so differently which puzzles and frustrates specialists.

I know this morning I was projecting as I tried to force yesterday’s baking onto MrF for his morning tea as he left for the office, why not just take one, go on, have more…… sounding like a frantic Mrs Doyle “go orn, go orn, go orn!” So today I will try and resist and stick to my plain carbs that settle my tum ignoring the brownies as they call so softy to me, their little voices muffled by the Tupperware…… hang on, actually I may have an issue there.

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