The ordeal of The Great Back Flare Up of Spring/Summer 2011 continues. Yesterday, I couldn't sit up. This was completely not fun, and days like that make for intolerably boring blog posts. Today, I can sit, and even stand long enough to prepare coffee and a mushroom omelet with rice-milk cheese and no toast and then limp/whine (OK; I cried) back to bed rather darkly gleeful that although no bread is an evil thing, at least it is a crumb-free breakfast to eat in bed.
An aside: rice milk is infinitely more melty/creamy than soy. A culinary revelation. However, do not eat it cold, because it is exactly as shitty cold as it is marvelous when heated.
I'm in a week(s) long freak out about the state of my body. Things that help only alleviate the pain temporarily; or alternatively take for-effing-EVER to show my results- like the diet. One day, I felt strong and flexible so I tried my pilates ball for a few, and was in excruciating pain all day. So the exercise thing shall wait until I've re-mastered the fine art of standing and walking.
And so, the diet:
Dr. Voodoo, my affectionate name for the new chiropractor/holistic guru, has forbidden nightshade veggies, a family including tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, and anything deliciously spicy. No curries for fuck's sake. Remember that I can see Little India from my shop. It is woe upon me. Nightshades contain alkaloids that Drs. Non-Voodoo have shown can adversely affect neuro-muscular pain. And my neuro-musculars are all in a tizzy trying always to decide what to DO with my wonky bones. "There are too many!" they scream. "And with the crooked! I quit!"
I'm also avoiding dairy, for unclear reasons but dairy is seriously disgusting if one puts it in a mammalian context. The last evil food is soy, because I am positively toxic with estrogen. This surprises my PMDD crazed self exactly none.
Now, temporarily, I am on a yeast cleanse as well. Hence the bread free breakfast. I am not dying of malnutrition, as my longtime BFF insists, because there are quite a few other vegetables in the world and even protein sources! Mostly I love the swimmy kind and the nutty kind. So, excepting the sugar, alcohol, and everything yummy-free yeast cleanse, the diet is not so bad.
Not fucking helping yet, but as Shane's nickname for me is Instant Gratification Girl, I'm working through that frustration. On the Western Med front, the MRI showed that my discs are behaving, and the wing-parts of my vertebrae aren't inflamed like my GP worried. When she called and said it was "normal," Shane and I cracked up. Of course she meant "normal for Heidi" but Shane insisted she'd read the wrong report.
Until next time, dear bleaders*, hugs & puppies**.
*Blog + readers. Read Julie Powell. Got a whole post coming extolling her awesome.