dirge of the adventure food

It waited, today.  It waited all the way through 9 hours of tissue preparation and number crunching until I stepped onto the bus.

I love getting attacks on the bus.  Really, and truly.  It proves a most suspenseful mission to hold in the fetal curling, labor moans and throughput.  Having made it halfway home on the first bus, I retreated into the Fred Meyer across the street and inhabited their fine IBD-friendly establishment for an hour.

As it happened, my bus pass had expired without drawing the attention of any of the bus drivers to whom I'd flashed it over the last five days.  The Indian woman beside me was kind enough to point it out as I clamored like Igor off the bus in front of Freddy's.  I thanked her (I think, but I can't be sure) and proceeded to engage in the activities of the above paragraph.

How fortuitous that I was in a Freddy's, whereupon regaining an erected spine I was able to get an October bus pass and stock up on rice cakes!  And how propitious that H.B. is currently also stay-at-home-boyfriend and was able to come pick me up... for there was no way on this earth that I would have survived another twenty minute bus segment in such a state.  The immediate acquisition of oxycodone was imminent.

In conclusion, Adventure Food of the week was a bust, and I have deemed it a little too soon to be eating even the most benign of cooked veggies.  And am somewhat embittered.  But, for beets?  Totally worth it. 

My GI is out of town until the end of the month, and his nurses know about half (graciously) as much as I do about gastroenterology (which I think is unfair to me), so I am left to speculate this one for myself.  The weekly Throughput appears to prefer the weekends, and to occur in short-lived bouts of unprecedented agony.  The pain continues to focus on my central intestine below the ileum, which, again, is a new location.  New location implies that prednisone should have quelled this fresh inflammation by now.  Seeing as it hasn't, we've either got some seriously increased obstruction from old scar tissue going on or the prednisone is working and IBS is taking the opportunity to mobilize in response to the extreme deficiency of fiber (and variety) in my diet -- the latter, only to mess with me and make me think I'm not recovering when actually I might be.  We will hope for the latter.