Well, I started the morning out feeling pretty good besides being tired. Got some coffee in me and drove to work. My girl Valerie called and we chatted for a good 45 mins while I drove. I got into work and realized I was terribly, ravenously hungry. I went next door and got a serving of scrambled eggs and 3 pieces of bacon. Not a bad breakfast. Historically, I have had issues with scrambled eggs, but in my past several encounters with the egg, we have gotten along just fine. There were no skirmishes in the stoma. There was no bickering among the digestive parts and the egg.
Today was a different story. And I tried REALLY hard to ensure that all parties remained calm and collected. I ate with my tiny Barbie fork. I chewed excessively and swallowed slowly. I even had hot tea standing by in case some trouble broke out. Well, apparently the egg was in a mood this morning because my system fought back with a vengeance. Stomach instructed: "EVERYBODY OUT!" Even the hot tea- the peacemaker.
It was an unfortunate event that occurred during what was supposed to be a nourishing and protein-giving, hunger-satisfying little mini meal.
After the smoke had cleared and several cups of hot tea were sent in for damage control, I resorted to sugar-free pudding. Apparently, the breakfast of Champions. And boy, do I feel like a Champion. Ugh.
The End
Credits: I'd like to thank the lapband, stress, very little sleep, stretching myself too thin on a daily basis, hormones, and of course eggs- without whom this whole saga would not be possible...(unless it was bread)
Author's note: I am currently enjoying my three hour old bacon and finding that my stomach has decided to make peace with the pork. Good Stomach, GOOD.
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