Humour: Food

I'd always assumed that food and eating are simple affairs; that we simply buy it, put it in our mouths, chew a bit, swallow and it exits at the opposite end to our mouths. Surely this is one of the most fundamentally easy to understand and execute activities that we are obliged to do? Tiny children do it! To my utmost dismay, shock and horror I must report that this is most certainly not the case! 1

To explain I'm forced to divulge the reason that I came across the disturbing and traumatising information that we are required to put thought and effort into food and eating. Nevertheless I do not wish for you to perceive me as a poor soul who requires prayer and immediate medical attention. I see myself, rather, as a pioneering explorer into the world of chlorophyll, algae, vitamins, nutrients and minerals. In other words, carrots, cabbage, calcium, chromium and constant chewing.2

Almost five years ago I noticed that I was craving sleep far too much, in fact all of the time. To summarise, I have ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I'm only managing to stay awake to write this by having my son stick needles into the sensitive spots situated above my knee caps. This condition has become my ruthless, cane wielding, overbearing, obnoxious, irritating, debilitating, stalking, nightmarish, relentless nemesis. If you're thinking that I exaggerate somewhat I would like to say that I cannot even begin to discover words and phrases that would even fractionally explain this inexplicable twilight zone that I'm forced to dwell in. In other words it might be more pleasant to force myself into a waste disposal unit; at least I'd have somethng tangible like a few cuts and abrasions to report to the doctor.3

Now that the intolerable winging's complete I assume that you being to comprehend my dilemma. Being so debilitated that turning over in bed was akin to 50 laps and 70 push ups I had to find a means of recovering. You'd think that the obvious first step would be to visit the local doctors surgery wouldn't you? Wrong. Apparently the textbook in the great medical profession library that explains ME/CFS has not yet been written! Therefore medical doctors have a repertoire of answers that they rashly dish out:4

'You are suffering from depression.' 'Sick people should work because it will make them feel better.' 'You are obsessing about ME/CFS.' 'Your test results are fine so you should be in a healthy condition.' Isn't that like saying, we haven't discovered life on other planets yet so it irrefutably does not exist? Or calling in the FBI because a bananas healing properties are misunderstood and it might be fatally dangerous.5

By making appointments with doctors I had no intentions of undermining the fact that the medical professionals are, above and beyond God, the ultimate authority on the intricate and mysterious workings of the human body. Yet the doctors all defensively and grumpily dismissed my pleas for help by focusing on some other point of my health and making me feel like a chronic hypochondriac. I've walked into numerous doctors surgery's feeling hopeful and optimistic only to exit with the full intentions of becoming a serial killer!6

Therefore, rather than explode several blood vessels in my temples, I decided to talk about my condition to people who might be a tad more sympathetic. The first person that I ranted to is my friend Janice in Australia, yes I live in the UK and had to reach that far for help. She immediately advised me to spit in a glass of water the first thing in the morning. My initial reaction was to advise her to see a psychiatrist but seeing as she insisted I did what she requested. To my surprise I noted that my saliva was doing incredibly strange things. It was growing legs, sinking and floating at the same time and not dissolving as it ought to in a healthy person.7

My good friend told me that I have a yeast infection and should begin to eliminate certain foods. I was utterly unaware that I'd have to revolutionise my way of eating and perceiving food. At first I had to tackle the excruciating realisation that I could no longer eat bread! Bread, I mean....bread! How does a person live without bread? I felt as though I'd rather live without clothes and oxygen.8

The fact is, I soon discovered, was that I wasn't required to live without bread, simply without wheat and yeast so after much research I invested in a bread machine, found out about flour that isn't wheat and all about yeast free bread, or soda bread. The relief was immense because bread's the utopia of food for a sick person; you simply grab two slices and throw something in-between them, hence you have a sandwich, or a meal that doesn't require planning, peeling, chopping and cooking.9

Little did I realise that bread wasn't the only thing I'd have to revolutionise or that I would need to replenish and build up my body, immune system and every other little nook and cranny that I'm comprised of with supplements and herbs. Or that I had a million and ten allergies to food, chemicals and modern life.10

So began my journey into the horrors and wonders of food. I say horrors because I've been learning about the food that's displayed on supermarket shelves, forced into our minds by advertising on television and that most of the known world is eating. That for example margerine, or spreads are only yellow because they're dyed that colour. Apparently, no matter what healthy ingredients they begin with, such as sunflower seeds or olive oil, they're heated at such a high temperature during processing that the end outcome is black, hence the yellow dye. They resemble plastic rather than real food! That could be taken as good news because we could all eat our lunch boxes and dispense with the lunch.11

I'm not partial to eating plastic though so I feel thankful for my health condition because without it I would have been eating my way to a health condition. Cough, shuffling of feet. Well at least I'll recover from this one and hopefully not get another one because I'll be aware of what I'm putting into my mouth.12

To conclude, I've learnt to make friends with beetroot, grapefruit, bean sprouts, seeds and herbs and I'm on my way to recovery. When I moved into my current home two years ago my lovely neighbour said I looked so ill that I frightened her and someone else said that I was grey. Now people are telling me I look better and I no longer look like the spectre that's too tired to spook. The best part is though that I have enough energy to stalk, plague, annoy and irritate the heck out of my new doctor until he agrees to learn something about ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome! 13

I'll leave you with this from my teenage son: 'Every silver lining has a cloud.' 14

But then without clouds we wouldn't get wet and vegetables would revolt!