I've been feeling shitty for almost a week. Doc ran a bunch of tests. I got the results today. I have an "acute diarrhea illness". There is nothing cute about it. When I say I've been feeling shitty, I mean that literally.
Cause, unknown. Might have picked up a bug. Might be my body's reaction to world events.
Hopefully it's the bug. My white blood cells stand a better chance of fighting off infection than I stand a chance of negotiating world peace. Especially while sitting on my porcelain throne.
Anyhoo, Doc recommends:
Eating lots of yogurt, but no other dairy.
Drinking lots of water and caffeine-free tea.
In addition to avoiding dairy, staying away from spicy foods, caffeine, and alcohol.
All my favorites, basically. I'm not complaining, though. After just one day of following her advice, I'm already feeling a bit better.
Could be I'm feeling cheerier from the good results of my blood work. Since I was there anyway she decided it was time for my annual metabolic tests. As a fat girl, I get nervous whenever a health care provider wants to assess my health. As a Health at Every Size advocate, I get excited for the results, which I can use to assure myself I'm not delusional.
Got good results today, so I'm proud to say that this fat girl is healthy. At least once I'm over this not-at-all-cute diarrhea illness that's going around.
Blood Pressure: 122/76
Pulse: 63
A1C: 5.8%
Cholesterol: 162
Triglycerides: 98
But you know what? Bragging about my metabolic test results is lame. It's the inner anorexic girl inside me, cheering me on when I'm healthy, but ignoring me when I'm sick. That's no way to treat a human being. Who cares what my blood pressure is? Does that make me a better fat person than a fat person with high blood pressure? I'm still trying to appease the disbelievers. The people who think my blog posts are just wishful thinking. This Ambiguous Life, renamed Fat Chick Rationalizing.
Why do I care so much what they think?
Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
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