A word to the wise. If you must get gastroenteritis or heat exhaustion, do so one at a time. DON’T double-up on them like I did. It’s unpleasant enough to deal with on its own, but then the doctors find all sorts of interesting things to stick you with, and all sorts of interesting places to poke and prod and stab with things.
I thoroughly detest being sick. It’s one of the most annoying things out there, in my opinion. (The absolute most annoying thing out there? You know when you can’t get at the last bit of marmalade in the jar no matter what utensil you used and you MUST HAVE that almond butter and marmalade sandwich now? That.) It colors my perceptions of everything so that nothing can be pleasant until I’m well.
This makes a bit of last night’s drug-addled furor seem silly in perspective. Yes, my horse’s arse of an ex will get what is coming to him in due time, but I’m solving nothing by sitting here, seething over it. I could do much more valuable things with my time. He already wasted enough of my time when I was dating him. He doesn’t need to waste more of it.
No, the thing that’s going to be the subject of today’s rant is…the Bland Diet.
For those of you who haven’t been lucky enough to get violently sick with not one, but TWO dangerous things at the same time, the first thing that your doctors tend to do after filling some of the holes in your system back up with needles and fluids and the occasional HUGE SYRINGE RIGHT TO THE derierre is to change your diet up ‘until further notice.’
Now, I can’t complain too much about this change—as of this writing, it’s been two days since my last real meal that’s stayed in my system long enough to derive any benefit from—but anyone who has known me for any length of time knows me as a foodie, and changing my diet is not something that is undertaken lightly. After my most recent trip to the hospital yesterday, I received fifteen pages of literature detailing not what I need to take, not what I have to make sure to do next, but just on what to eat.
“A bland diet is designed primarily to help patients recover from gastrointestinal conditions or other medical circumstances in which improved digestion would be essential.” —Wikipedia’s entry on the bland diet.
Long story short: Low sugar, no spices, nothing with significant fiber content, no red meat, no strongly flavored fish (though tuna is apparently ok). Nothing spicy, nothing processed heavily like lunchmeats, easy on the dairy, no tough vegetables, no beans, and—interestingly—no aspirin or ibuprofen.
I CAN eat: soft foods, plain bread, lean proteins, boiled eggs, and low-fiber cereals.
I CANNOT eat: most of what’s in my pantry.
Right now, sitting in my freezer waiting for me to have a good side dish to go with it, is one of the best delicacies I’ve had the occasion to eat: lobster ravioli. However, lobster’s one of those things that are off limits right now—it is DEFINITELY not lean, and the flavor’s wonderfully assertive. Also off limits are the delicious high-fiber multigrain rolls I like so much for sandwiches, my favorite lunchmeat—Lebanon bologna—and tomatoes.
Basically, I can have saltines and Gatorade. Oh, and canned soup. And I just had my last canned soup.
I jumped online to find options—there’s a bit more leeway to my restrictions than I thought. Apparently, bacon is allowed on the bland diet, as long as it’s fried nice and crisp, and well-drained. Cream of wheat (farina) is also allowed. (So now I have an option for breakfast.) But the restrictions are still pretty heavy, and there will be a lot of adjusting to make until my stomach adjusts to having…you know…FOOD. But…it’s just SO BORING!
Then again, I’d rather not wind up hospitalized for the third time in this single month, so…
*reaches for plain bread*