High (fiber) times

Well, here we are, friends, at the end of what can only be described as a crap-tastic week Chez Mad Dog!

The NSF grant proposal, as you know, has not ceased to kick me relentlessly in the arse, an arse-kicking that I thought would be over last night at the absolute latest, but which has instead continued into today and promises to persist for at least three or four more hours tomorrow!

Like any beating, it’s bound to feel good when it quits!

Any attempt to describe the mind-numbing agony of absurd detail that this proposal demands would, I’m sure, be futile. Our powers are only so great. But here’s a little taste: among its various insults to your discretion and intelligence, the proposal has a section in which you are called upon to speak of yourself in the THIRD PERSON.

As in, “Ellen Bales will carry out vital research that will not only excite your senses and tickle your fancy, but will also end the war in Iraq and bring food to those who hunger, water to those who thirst. Because frankly, that’s the kind of person Ellen Bales is. People not only love Ellen Bales, they envy her!”

I’m the Bob Dole of the academy. The shame is so great that I may have to start wearing a disguise.

Meanwhile, the condition of the Bales-Wellerstein homestead has continued to deteriorate and no one has had a decent meal around here for about two weeks.

“Time” was the one bright spot in an otherwise dark and cold week:
timefront.png
Here you can see where I split the sweater for the arm holes.

timeback.png
The glorious back.

timeasseenbyant.png
How it would look if you were an ant.

But speaking of food, I faced one further, and possibly even more grave, insult this week. Unbeknownst to you, but, um, knownst to me—and how!—I have for some time been having troubles with my guts. Trouble with your guts is a bad kind of trouble, because we all know perfectly well that if you go to your doctor and tell her that you are having gut troubles, she will offer to “help” you by running a camera up your backside and into your guts and seeing what she can see.

A procedure that she will cavalierly describe as, “no big deal.”

Because to her, you see, it is “no big deal.” If that camera were rooting around in her guts, the “deal” would be much, much bigger. Much.

As proof that this week—bad though it was—could have been even worse, I was not subjected to the little camera. I was, however, diagnosed with mild “Irritable Bowel Syndrome” and placed on a special diet.

This, dear friends, is the era of diagnosis. Thirty or forty years ago, we would have just said, “Well, you know how Grandma got so there were so many things that didn’t agree with her. I reckon I’m gettin’ to be like Grandma.” Today, we have “IBS” and drugs and special diets.

We also have this:
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I got a little confused when Dr. F. told me I needed more fiber in my diet. So I purchased the Benefiber and a few extra balls of yarn.

So in addition to my Benefiber—mmm, mmm!—I can also have (and I shall start at the top of the list, adding commentary as I go):

1. Water and ginger ale, although the pamphlet hastens to add that, “Many types of flavored, non-carbonated water are now available!” I suppose one is meant to exclaim, “Well, then, Skimpole, you see, things aren’t so bad after all! We are to have YET ANOTHER beverage choice!”

2. White or (are you ready for this?) brown rice.

3. Broiled fish.

4. Broiled, skinless chicken.

5. Broiled, skinless turkey.

6. Soft-boiled eggs. There is no explanation offered for the exclusion of hard-boiled eggs, but I suspect conspiracy.

7. (At this point in the list, many of those who have been placed on the special diet are already weeping quietly in the corner, but they ain’t seen nothin’ yet.) Number Seven is…a baked potato without the skin! And then, in a powerful example of kicking the dieter while she is already hungry and deprived, “DO NOT EAT FRIED POTATOES!” (Emphasis original.)

Well, fine, then. Take your crappy old French fries and stick ’em where the little camera goes. I got me a case of ginger ale and I’m ready to par-tay!

8. Toast. Right.

9. Cheerios without milk. Talk about taking the “cheer” out of Cheerios.

10. Oyster crackers. But you ain’t getting no chowder with that.

As the diet goes on in this deflating and bland vein, you find yourself kind of slumping in your chair, only to be redeemed by Number Thirty-Two:

Graham crackers!

By the time you get to Number Thirty-Two, graham crackers sound like chocolate torte. You are so grateful! Graham crackers! I get to eat graham crackers!

But there are more special treats in store for baby! Number Thirty-Three?

Fruit cocktail!

Returning to its Scrooge-like abstemiousness, the diet ends a few items later with a dispiriting pair of approved “foods”:

39. Small amounts of oleomargarine. (Really, now, who uses the word “oleomargarine” any more?)

40. Multivitamins.

Now, I am no nutritionist, but last I checked, a multivitamin is not a food. Buzz. I’m sorry. Number Forty is disqualified from the foods list.

Whaddya say we replace it with pulled pork?

10 Responses to “High (fiber) times”

  1. Shelly Kang Says:

    Hi, your sweater is looking great. Sorry to hear about your gut troubles. I know you weren’t asking for advice, so forgive me for hauling off and giving you some anyway. You might want to consider some probiotic foods as part of your diet – things that probably aren’t on the approved list, but that include healthy bacteria like kefir, yogurt, saurkraut and pickles and kimchee. These can help heal your gut and can also be found in pill form. Just a thought.

  2. Sarah Says:

    Oh, man. What a blow. I, as you know, love my food, and any hint of a restrictive diet just makes me flippin’ MAD!
    Although, I have to admit that I myself had an incident with a grapefruit recently that has really put me off grapefruit for a while. You know how Grandma got so she couldn’t eat certain things….

  3. Melissa Says:

    I just thought that I would let you know that if you do have IBS it is not absolutely 100% bad for the food department. I have had IBS for years and after cutting out everything I followed the advice of my doctor and slowly added back in foods (think like for a baby) in order to see what my trigger foods are. There is a really good book that I have that helped me see that the foods that I have to eat don’t have to be bland – it is Eating for IBS and there is a website for the book’s author – http://www.helpforibs.com. Do take your doctors advice, but know that there is food hope out there. Also just a mention – stress can also play a BIG role in how bad IBS is affecting your body.

  4. MonicaPDX Says:

    Grant proposals – are they nuts?! In other words, what they’re really saying is, “Show us how well you can jump through flaming hoops and we just might give you the grant. Start writing…we’re waiting to be amused.” Time – looking magnifique! IBS – hell’s bells. That’s what they mis-diagnosed my panic attacks as for years, but at least they only gave me pills. No cameras. (Back in the dark ages of the early 80’s, y’see. Thank god.) My heartiest sympathies, ’cause man, food restrictions are the worst. Feh. Have some more yarn. ::hugs::

    (Oleomargarine? Yegawds, my *grandmothers* stopped using that word by the 60’s. And note the ironic slogan on the Benefiber: “The clear choice.” Oh yeah, it’s gonna be ‘clear’ all right. Sure. Reminds me of an ad blooper for some bran cereal back in the 70’s/80’s. The spokesman, some environmental celebrity – and I *cannot* remember his name, kindly-looking older guy – was running the cereal through his hand in the fake factory, giving his spiel about how it’d help your health. Veiled references to keeping you regular. And without a pause, at the end he gave a big grin and came out with, “And that ain’t no shit.” [vbg])

  5. Owl Says:

    My sympathies on the tummy! (Been there, camera not fun) and your knitting is looking great!

  6. Helen Says:

    It may well go away once you’ve got past the grant application: fingers crossed.

  7. Kim Says:

    Sorry about your dietary restrictions. I had an acquaintance/friend whose troubles were so bad, she was on a 4-foods diet which I don’t remember the name of, but it was basically bananas and toast for a few weeks before she started adding back various things. At least you have 30+ options….

  8. Knit Sisters » Blog Archive » Really love your peaches Says:

    […] You have no idea how fixated you can become on the idea of a dinner roll when you can only eat thirty-nine things and one of them is “oleomargarine.” (If you are new to the blog, you can get the back-story here.) […]

  9. Juno Says:

    I kept thinking – what has happened to knitsisters? It turns out that – as will cell phone generated phone number innumeracy, that newsgator lost you…and without newsgator, I am nothing.

    So belatedly, I offer my most sincere condolences.

    And also, did they write this list in the 40s? Because it seems heavy of processed and so-called convenience edibles, and short of, you know, food. There must be a different way to not insult your innards?

  10. Knit Sisters » Blog Archive » The living daylights Says:

    […] And these feelings of well-being, however fleeting, are a very good thing indeed because while my sister, who couldn’t have deserved it more, was having a lovely time at the fiber retreat this weekend, I was knitting Minnie, writing my dissertation, a fighting a losing battle with my guts. […]