You guys, I love the holidays. I have no cynical-child-of-the-90s guilt about unabashedly loving the holiday season. Not even ironically. Not a year goes by that I don’t down my weight in Christmas cookies, before, or after the celiac thing. Fudge is my best friend. Except these days, there’s a different kind of fudge dominating my days.
I also love holiday parties. I love spontaneous “Let’s meet for a drink and and apps!” suggestions, and I won’t turn down an ice skating and hot chocolate invite. I love shopping for other people, which can, at times, lead to lunch on the run at a place that could kill you. Which is why I’m currently in day 4 on the bowl.
If I’ve begrudgingly said it once, I’ve begrudgingly said it a thousand times: Shart happens. If you leave your house, your health is at risk. I know this. You know this. Your friends don’t know this, but hey, they’ve got their own problems. (Can you say d-i-v-o-r-i-c-e? They can.)
So how to balance the super fun times of the holidays, with the “Oh my god, is that blood?” time? I dunno, guys. I. Don’t. Know. Right now I’m feeling like total ass, and I’m downing charcoal pills and hunting for my probiotics which are lost behind the contents of my CSA box and leftover brisket. I’m forgoing ordering out Indian food “just in case.” And I’m wondering if it’s wise to leave the house again this season. I mean, I will. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a party whore. But I’m wondering if I should listen when my GI doctor says to me, “If I tell you your test results aren’t very good, will you just stop eating out?”
Probably not. But I will step up my holiday game. With this, and this, and this. And I’ll start checking the candy cane labels, because, yeah, didn’t know those could get you until some nice person on Instagram filled me in. Explains an 8-10 hour period of yuck, for sure. All of this is to say, I should keep bringing my own latkes to a party, and I should never trust anyone but my GI doctor. Alternately, I should load up on dinner, then head to the party and drink my face off (not beer). Right? Right.
Crappy holidays, you guys!
How are you coping?