Am I an Idiot?

I got a lot of stuff that's wrong with me. Allergies. Nearsightedness. Gingivitis. Chronic Prepatellar Bursitis. Insomnia. Anxiety Disorder. IBS. Lactose Intolerance. This week chalked another one onto the list. I think I may be gluten intolerant too.

I started researching on Wednesday. After reading up on it, I went for a run. The list of symptoms circled through my head.

That damn weird metal taste!

Dry skin? Is that why I'm itchy all the time?

Poor tooth enamel! I did think it odd that I've been drinking coffee since the age of fourteen, but I didn't get stains until last year.

Fatigue? Hell yes. I drink 5 cups of green tea every morning. (Having cut the coffee 'cos of the tooth stains).

IBS. Lactose Intolerance. Decreased appetite. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Depression. Don't get me started.

All the while I'm thinking this, I'm chugging up this hill I've chugged up a million times over the past year, feeling like I'm going to die.

POOR MUSCLE TONE AND INABILITY TO LOSE WEIGHT.

Oh. My. God. I stopped in my tracks.

Is that why I've been working out six days a week for the last three years, and barely shaved off five pounds?

So I decided to go gluten-free, just to see what would happen.

Now I know what you are thinking: Shouldn't you go to a doctor, Farty Girl?

Wake up, people. This is America. I don't have health insurance.

For the past three years, I've self-diagnosed myself as a lot of things. Mostly all of these ailments could be fixed through diet. So I played with my diet. Then last year I went to a doctor, who certified that I had done good homework, that I was right with my assessments.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think I am fit to stand in for a doc. Lest I end up like Sylvia Plath's father, who mistakenly diagnosed his diabetes as cancer, and died of a gangrenous leg. I do plan to go to the doctor again. Once I finish my book. Once I get a job. Once I get insurance. Somehow. Somewhere. Someday.

I keep thinking though... Neither the doctor or I was able to correctly diagnose me, as I still have problems. It makes me wonder - is self-diagnosing valuable? Can we poor bastards use it to put off a costly visit, at least for a while? Or is it terribly dangerous and am I an idiot?

I'm going to have to wait and see.

FG Goes on a Date!

My last boyfriend denied it a million times, but I know that he broke up with me because of my farting. That's what got him sleeping on the couch. There's nothing like the stench of ass stuck between the sheets. I can't say that I blame him. But even after I got better, he didn't come back.

Since then, I've often wondered: How do I start dating again? Do I tell the guy about my IBS? When?

Long ago, I decided: No. If I manage to snag another victim, I will not tell him about my IBS. I'll stay on my diet. I'll hide it. Upon moving in together, I'll make sure that I have my own office with a futon. On farty nights, I'll say I'm pulling an all nighter, and pass out in there. The next morning, before he wakes up, I'll open the windows, blast the fans, burn twenty sticks of incense.

No problem.

So I started dating. The first one was a couple weeks ago. I went drinking with an old friend. It was a little disappointing. He's not changed much since back in the day. Although we bantered like smart asses, it was really only because I pretended to be interested in what the fuck he was talking about. It was only because I felt desperate to connect with someone.

Back at his place, he let me read some of his writing. We lay on our stomachs on his bed, like two teenage girls, kicking our feet up and reading and laughing. It was getting to be less and less like a date as the hours clicked on.

Then it happened. I laughed so hard that I farted. Loud.

My date cried, good-naturedly, "Man! And I've been holding mine back!"

"I didn't even feel that one coming on," I insisted. I buried my head in my hands and moaned, "Oh my God."

He ripped off a quick succession of farts. "That's going to stink too," he promised, trying to make me feel better.

It didn't work. But what does one do in these awkward, stomach-shrinking moments? Get up and run out the door? If I left, I'd make it a bigger deal than it was. So I stayed.

I wondered whether my ass had ruined the future of yet another possible relationship, for a few days. Three days to be exact. Then he called, asking if we could hang out again. I realized that when a person genuinely likes me, it doesn't matter that I'm a fart machine.

That means the problem is mine. The embarrassment is mine to get over.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this. I got asked out again? He still likes me, farts and all?

Now, if only I could say the same thing about him.

For some reason, it's not enough to be liked or loved. Even if it was, I was pretty turned off by the fact that HE farted. This leaves me wondering if it's possible for me to have a relationship. Will I ever reach that place where the farts don't bother me anymore? And if I do, how will I balance comfortability with the "zing" of perfect chemistry?

I'm reminded of that scene in Babel, where Brad Pitt helps Cate Blanchett pee. They are husband and wife, fighting while on vacation in a desert in the Middle East. She's been shot, and is lying on the floor of this shack. Brad Pitt comes into the shack, after trying to get an ambulance. 

"I peed," she says. "I have to pee again."

He gets a little tin and lies down beside her and holds in under her while she pees. Then they start kissing. It's really quite beautiful. 

But what if Cate were to fart, instead of pee, in that scene? I can't imagine it would have been so beautiful.

Post-Birthday Bloating Blues

Let me bitch for a second about IBS.

For those of you who don't know, there are two different kinds of IBS. IBS-Diarrhea and IBS-Constipation. I have the latter. Food gets stuck in my gut easily, which is what makes me gassy for days upon weeks at a time. So to combat it, I maintain a high fiber vegan no sugar diet that keeps me in the clear.

I mean, if you were farting all the time, wouldn't you do it too?

So I thought that I had it under control. Lately, I'm not so sure. When I consume too much fiber, I have IBS-Diarrhea. I go to the bathroom like every fifteen minutes. For days, my stomach burns and I can only digest pretzels and potatoes. No tea, even. Which sucks, because I need a little caffeine in the morning.

This is what happened this past weekend. I made a vegan no refined sugar cake for my thirtieth birthday. It proceeded to barrage it's way through my intestines like a garbage truck. Now I'm bouncing back and forth from painful burning to swollen indigestion. I can't tell when I'm hungry. I can't tell when I'm full. I got no energy. I haven't showered or left the house in days. Seriously.

So. Once my stomach gets back on track, I'm going to design a new diet. It will be vegan. It will be high fiber. But it will also be balanced. Dammit.

my gassy guru

Gary Null is my gassy guru. By following his no refined sugar, high fiber, vegan diet, I've been able to control my IBS without the assistance of meds. So it's only fair that I review his book on the subject of "Power Foods."

Null's a vegan. It's no surprise that his take is a little different than Pratt & Matthews. So here they are, the 15 power foods, according to Null.

Almonds
Oranges
Bananas
Blueberries
Onions
Garlic
Ginger
Legumes
Carrots
Peppers
Shiitake Mushrooms
Tomatoes
Leafy Greens
Soy
Whole Grains


When my brother saw this book, he said, "I know that guy. He's a weirdo."

I agree. Null is a health food nazi. He doesn't tone it down in his book. After a breakdown of the 15 power foods, he gives over three-hundred pages of power food recipes. These recipes have gory names, like Gallbladder Flush, Nice Veins, and Healthy Prostate. No wonder more people are running to the bookstore for Pratt & Matthews' book.

Seriously though? Sucks for them. Because Pratt & Matthews list only foods with high antioxidants and anti-aging properties. Null offers a much more comprehensive and intellectual take on the power food. He does't cop to any trends. His power foods contain the vitamins, high fiber, high protein, and antioxidents necessary for optimal daily body functions.

When it comes to your health, you should always get a second opinion. Don't follow the trends. Think of the horrible side effects of Atkins, South Beach. Remember to question everything you read. It's important to listen to doctors and nutritionists. But don't forget to also listen to your gut!