Over the course of the last month my darling Sienna has watched her papa (also known as me) lose quite a bit of weight. Normally this would be a cause of celebration my ultimate in shape moment is now more than a 50% of my life ago, with only islands of exercise in a sea of laziness since. Some of the islands were larger than others, though in the end the ocean of apathy rose up to crush them all equally.
Apparently softball is not exercise - at least according to my Doctor who actually giggled at me when I told him that is what I do for exercise. I shall digress for a moment as I point out that living in Brooklyn while working in Manhattan forces a bit of pseudo-exercise that is of a higher level than suburbanites experience walking from the house to the car.
Anyway, Papa Me lost 12 pounds in a short period of time. I lost so much weight that my mother-in-law commented on it and co-workers commented on it. Unfortunately it wasn't a purposeful diet plan.
I had a lingering cough/cold/what-the-hell-is-this-thing for about a month. The type of cold that circumnavigates the globe known as the office, managing to ping you several times when you are juuuuust about to get completely healthy. My immune system was wrecked from long hours, holiday's, and Scudder-cat waking me up two to three times a night.
Which was when I got the stomach flu/gastroenteritis. That is what really annihilated me. For seven days I dined on a combination of toast, potatoes, rice, tea, and the finest New York tap water. The couch was my new BFF, while Danielle was a close second since she had to take care of Sienna and listen to me. Let us just say that I am not the best patient in the world.
Did you know that more people died from the flu during World War II than actual battles? That is a factoid I like to remind myself of whenever I am losing fluids on the couch. Remarkably enough I did not end up needing an IV, which is actually a step up over previous encounters with the bug.
Now, that is an awful lot of set-up to say that I now feel much better. Having spent an XMas vacation reading Game of Thrones, being a couch-lizard, relapsing and finally becoming healthy.
Until yesterday. My co-worker took me out to lunch as a thank you for doing some work while he was out. As people know, no good deed goes unpunished. Unfortunately the punishment was to my body after I ate a rather heavy meal including clam chowder, a French Dip sandwich, plus a few other snacks.
As I sat on my throne last night I pondered the words Danielle said (or some words to this affect) How did you not know that would be bad for you? My second thought was a much simpler one, most likely a reflection of the current mindset of having lost weight, If you get sick again you're going to be one skinny, sexy dude.
I hope Sienna gets her Mommy's common sense when it comes to eating, as Papa Me appears to be a moron sometimes.
Wayne
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