The final Tyvaso bump kicked my butt. I felt totally awful, but it took Connie to make me realize why. Duh!! After some Tylenol, I lay on the couch and pretty much took a whole-day time-out.
Never in my pudgy life have I thought eating would not appeal.
Many years of my life revolved around food. I wrote a food column at the newspaper, "Table Scraps." I have not met a fruit or veggie which failed to become my friend (Well OK, maybe one or two). I enjoyed listening to other foodies describe the layers of flavors in the bechamel like one discerns the woody flavor of a fine wine. Hunting down and tasting new foods thrills me as much as a collector of rare books finding a first edition.
A trip through a store like Whole Foods serves as a vacation for me. Because of my travels as a food writer, I got to try cabra, breadfruit, peanut soup, quail, duck (my family was not hunters) and ostrich. I enjoyed traveling, too. Jamaica, Seattle, Orlando, Richmond and San Diego.
When I went to Europe, I was more interested in the Food Hall at Harrod's than the clothes. Cemeteries came in a close second. In Germany, I ate roasted suckling pig that was brought to the table on a board, and yes, there was an apple in its mouth. In Belgium, I bought chocolate. I had mutton stew on a cruise (ugh, it was awful).
All that love of food disappeared. These days I expect something in the cabinet or refrigerator to jump out at me when I open the door. "Eat me today. Please!!" The pleas fall on deaf ears until I am so woozy I grab the nearest cracker or cookie. I have lost another pound. I never, ever thought I would say this: I really do not need to lose any more.
OK, Dude, I am outta here.
Later.
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