The call came this morning from the doctors office… While the gluten testing came back negative, I was told that I need to begin going gluten-free AND dairy-free; easing into the gluten-free so the system isn’t shocked.
Yep. That’s right. It’s a BIG EFFING DEAL! I’m a FOODIE for Pete’s sake! I like food. Scratch that – I love food!
I was going to go out and run errands during my lunch break and thought that I’d hit some place for food. I’d already begun cutting out dairy, but this gluten-free news, though I felt it was coming at me eventually, was like a punch to the gut (or maybe that’s just indigestion).
I thought to myself, “If only there was a thing called the Internet… where I could look up vital information like safe menu choices at fast food restaurants…” HUZZAH! Al Gore created it! (not really… that’s a joke that has been going around for a long time)
Anyway, I find a list of fast food stops and their gluten-free-friendliness. Top of the “friendly” list is Wendy’s and Arby’s…. and all the way down at the bottom is: KFC. The Colonel. The don’t-eat-here-because-it’s-all-“glutinafied” (it’s a word… I wrote it.) This will be the start of my “easing into gluten-free”.
My lips curled into a mischievous grin. KFC. NOT gluten-free-friendly (maybe it’s all that breading)… A last hurrah.
I go out. I stop at KFC. I order the KFC bites, wedges and a Pepsi. I pop those hot, steamy, little chicken chunks into my salivating maw with abandon. I burn my mouth. Hot little suckers… And they were so delicious…
And then they weren’t; and the wedges, tasting like the wedges always do, just started to taste…. less than. My brain and digestive system (DS) were having a discussion.
Brain: These are DELICIOUS!
DS: No…. they aren’t; they’re coated in flour and who knows what… you’re going to feel shitty.
Brain: Surely this small amount will have no affect on me. You’re made of steel, stomach!
DS: Well, no… actually, all of us are pretty fleshy and now that we know what to watch for, yeah… we’d prefer if you stop eating that stuff sooner rather than later.
Brain (feeling a bit sheepish and immature now): But… but… these are… Delicious…. You love KFC.
DS: Yeah, you’re saying that wrong. We loved KFC, past tense… until we found out what was most likely the reason for us not feeling well. But, since you appear to be ignoring our request, don’t say we didn’t warn you. You have about 10 minutes until you’ll feel like crap.
Brain (on the verge of tears): but… this was supposed to be our last hurrah… at KFC. Because it’s….delicious.
And there you have it. My last “hurrah” at KFC… my “In your FACE, KFC and your gluten-y goodness!” turned into fast food having a last laugh on me.