I have always envied folks with a cast iron stomach. It seems they can eat just about anything without suffering any consequences. My stomach is more accurately described as a porcelain stomach – quite fragile. I would never survive one of those game shows where they make you eat weird disgusting things.
I am not a fan of nausea and I am pretty much unilaterally against vomiting of any caliber – particularly when it comes from me. My distaste for vomiting has always served me well in regard to alcohol consumption. Those who want to avoid vomiting need to avoid drinking in excess. Of course, one cannot always avoid vomiting in regard to pregnancy. But pregnancy vomiting for me had a fairly well-defined time frame and I managed to get through it four times with limited scarring.
While I survived pregnancy, I have been scarred many times by vomiting experiences tied to food consumption. The rule of thumb on that front is this: if it makes me sick once and is not on my most beloved food list – I never eat it again – NOT EVER. I am easily scarred and the imprint of that which scars me does not leave me. When I was a kid. I became sick after a breakfast that included eggs and orange juice. It wasn’t likely the food that made me sick, but that was the imprint that stuck with me. I no longer eat eggs (unless they are mixed into something like a cake mix) and I no longer drink orange juice. The same is true for fish and a whole collection of other items.
Unfortunately, I have never become ill from donuts or potato chips or other such delectable, but completely fattening, items. I feel slighted by the universe on this front. It sure would be nice if my porcelain stomach was good for something.
On Monday, the family unit went out to Johnny Carino’s to celebrate Cheyenne’s birthday. We ordered a selection of family platters (a little tip for those who did not know- family platters are half-off on Mondays). Well, long story short – I got very sick after that meal. Indeed, I am still not fully recovered. I am placing the blame on the chicken fettuccine alfredo. I did have some bites of other things – but I think it was the chicken. I know it couldn’t have been the bite of turtle cheesecake I had.
It has been a very long time since I have felt that horribly ill after eating something. I was so ill I had to take the next day off work…I was positively green around the gills. I was quite a pitiful sight. I am at about 50% today. I hope by tomorrow I will be back to 100%.
Can you guess what is now off the list of things I will eat? Yes, you guessed it -chicken fettuccine alfredo. I also think it will be an awful long time before me and my porcelain stomach go back to Carino’s. Indeed, even thinking about the whole thing now makes me queasy. That makes sense though as far more finicky than my porcelain stomach is my easily scarred mind that now has negatively framed all chicken fettuccine alfredo in the same ugly light. Perhaps I need some therapy to rehabilitate my exiled food selections. I don’t know if there are any therapists that specialize in this issue. Or perhaps I should just lay back for the time being and not worry about it. I can live without chicken fettuccine alfredo…but, if some mission critical foods like cheese, spinach, tacos, fruit, or chocolate become exiled, shock therapy or a lobotomy may be necessary. There are some things one cannot live without…even if one has a porcelain stomach.
Day one thousand three hundred and sixty-five of the new forty – obla di obla da