The Threat of an Ulcer

I really wanted to post my Belize series in a row. What enjoyable vacation reading. Educational even. Who knew what cashews look like in the growing stage? You do!

But I cannot avoid my ultimate reality this week. And after the phone conversation I just had with my dad, I had to pause my Belize memories, hit New Document and start anew on my current discomfort.

My phone conversation with my dad:
“Yellow?”
“Dad, what the hell are you doing up it's nine o'clock?”
“We’re watching the last 8 minutes of Monk. Can she call you back?”
“Sure, but aren’t you going to wish me luck with my ulcer?”
“You don’t have an ulcer. It’s call nervous stomach. You don’t want to have an ulcer.”
“Dad! I’ve had nervous stomach. Nervous stomach has never laid me out on the floor, immobile.”
“Oh dear. Maybe it’s an ulcer”
“Thanks Dad.”

There are things in that conversation that could get me talking forever. The fact that my dad never answers the phone, is never normally awake at 9pm and how if he is up, he and my mom are undoubtedly watching TV and would never pause it (they can do that, they are like God with a remote) to talk to their daughter. I could talk about his use of the word “she” and how he assumes I only want to talk to my mother. But the point of me writing is not to embarrass my mother publically (I love you Mom, you are my favorite reader).

It sucks to have your insides and your outsides hurt simultaneously. Last week I played too hard and this week I worked too hard, leaving my muscles in constant tension and complete soreness. It was Tuesday that the abdominal pain set in. A pain that wasn’t helped by my chiseled abs pressing so tightly against my internal organ. I spent the week lifting heavy objects, laid out on the couch, leaving work early in pain and learning what foods do the most damage. The four “L”s, that wasn’t intentional but I like the lifting, laid, leaving, learning alliteration.

I don’t think I have an ulcer. I think my stomach lining is inflamed, but I really don’t want to have an ulcer. So I went to the Doctor. She told me I probably have an ulcer. They took a blood sample. I don’t think I’ve ever had my blood drawn as an adult. I don’t have any memory of it. I don’t even know my blood type. Anyway, I’ll get the results tomorrow. This is boring reading, I just know that when I start talking about it people get all concerned and want the information I just gave.

What bums me out the most is not the pain. I mean, the pain sucks, but what sucks more is the bland diet. I don’t know if this vegetarian can live without spices, caffeine, alcohol, cigarettes … Being someone who never restricts what she eats (ok ok I’m a vegetarian, restricted diet exemplified, but as long as it doesn’t poop, I’ll eat any and everything, I have my gluttonous moments, there’s a reason my family calls me a bottomless pit [that was a very long parenthetical statement]), I never gave a second thought to whether I should or shouldn’t be eating something. Selectivity and food do not mix well for me. How many bananas and waffles can I eat? This is terrible!

The other things that has been on my mind this week is people who live with pain everyday and how miserable that must be. To arrange your life according to your pains. That thought is beyond words for me. I should shut my fucking complaining yap!

Lastly, went to Cirque Du Soleil with Alicia. The juggling act had us both in stitches – Sparkle Ham-berg and Wavey-Arms McGee. We laughed so hard, we were both wiping tears from our cheeks. I laughed so hard my insides hurt, but my insides already hurt, which made it hurt more and then I just wanted to cry from the pain but the thought of sobbing seemed too painful. So I won’t cry. But I’ll take that pain any day for a laugh like that. Ohhh Sparkle Ham-berg, I love your jumpsuit. I want to be in it.