Soooo, I’m soldiering on with this low-carb business… But feeling worse and worse…
“Never fear” I tell myself. “I am breaking my unhealthy addiction to carbs”. (Apparently)
I deteriorate. Without going into too much detail – nausea, dizziness, extreme fatigue, chills/ rigors and things coming out of places they ain’t meant to come out of.
OK that was a fair amount of detail.
Between the waves of extreme discomfort I feel strangely enlightened- surely if my body’s reaction is THIS STRONG then it must mean something good? Maybe my whole pancreas just regenerated?
But as I’m making another offering to the porcelain god, the (sad) truth dawns on me… I am not low-carb, I am not purging my body of evil toxins/ diabetes/ unhealthy addictions to carbs/ all kinds of sin in general…
I have gastro.
I drag my sorry ass into the kitchen for some rehydration, thinking it can’t get much worse when… on the kitchen counter… I see…. an EMPTY PACKET OF MUSELI!
The planets align (or somethin’!) and I go nuts.*
* Unfair really, because if I was from South America, I would just be classified as ‘hot blooded’ and that would make me so hot right now.
Husband (quietly reading something)
Me (not so quietly) “YOU’VE BEEN CHEATING!!!”
Husband (dumbfounded, remains silent) (good move)
Me (volume escalating, scrap that, escalatED) “YOU’VE BEEN EATING MUSELI!! NO WONDER YOU FEEL OK!!”
Husband (logical tone) “Well, it had to be eaten. It would have gone to waste.”
He is obviously not to be trusted. I channel De Niro (complete with hand signals): “I’m watching you…”