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What Was Eve Thinking?

I wake up every morning and take inventory of my body. I am tired of doing that but I can't help it.  Am I in pain? Am I nauseous?  Does my throat hurt? Does my voice sound funny? Will taking the pills the doctor tells me I must take make me feel better or worse?  Do I feel like I ran a marathon moments after I rise? Will light bother my eyes today? Will I have ocular migraines all day or just the one I have now? I go through my various ailments while determining if I can walk upright to the bathroom or do I need to hang on to the bed.

Am I a hypochondriac? If I am, I am a good one.  Wait, I take that back. I am sporadically good.  One day I will have energy and the next day I will not.  I can't find the common denominator. I eat the same things every day. I see the same doctors. They are convinced something is going on but they don't know what.  That's not comforting except I know that they look for cancer and haven't found it.  That part is comforting.

I have wiped processed foods out of my diet.  "If it's white it ain't right!" No sugar, no gluten...nothing but real, clean, organic food. One of the pills I have to take has the ask of tricking my body into being more sensitive to the insulin it produces.  Consequently, two out of three days you will find me consuming Belly Flops (a Jelly Belly that didn't pass quality control). They are easy to carry in my purse or car and they are chock-a-block full of sugar... the very sugar I have removed from my diet on purpose. Why? Because taking the medication makes my blood sugar suddenly drop into the 60s and without out some sugar, if it continues to plummet, I am headed for a coma.  Hardly seems worth taking the pills in that case, does it?

My tongue is sore all the time. It feels raw, like I have been licking a cheese grater. When I feel particularly fatigued and nasty, my tongue turns brown. Yeah, brown.  If I can load up on B-12 before it really smarts I can get through the cycle without the change of color. When it turns brown my regular doctor makes me gargle with some nasty stuff that has a numbing agent in it.  You haven't lived until your tongue and throat feel swollen and numb. It makes me think I am gagging.  I have an appointment with my gastroenterologist. I know he is going to want to scope me from both ends.  Gee, that's something to look forward to, ain't it?

I have theories. Conspiracy theories. It's all the things that the government told us were safe. Safe like they told us DDT was safe and made movies of unsuspecting guinea pigs having a picnic while the nice men in the mosquito abatement truck misted everyone with a big ol' dose.  It's all the things the big industry farmers bought from the chemical companies so they could grow frankencorn.  It's the drugs I experimented with when I was young and stupid. It's the hydrogenated stuff they put in my food with enough high fructose corn syrup to make it palatable.  It's the antibiotics they fed my beef.  It's the antibiotics I lived on for a year when I had an infection in my jaw.  It's the two root canals I have.  It's the lack of discipline I have.  It all started when Eve listened to the Greatest Rebel and entertained his comments and truth.

Short of the Lord's return I am not getting out of this life alive. I am trying to train myself to take inventory of God's manifold blessings and mercies first. Eventually I get there, but I confess, my first thought every morning is what I would like to do to Eve and how hard I would like to slap Adam for listening to her.


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