Last week I learned that food poisoning sucks.
Thus, no staggering posts of insightful genius or even a small giggle-inducing post.
The Saga of the Honey-Roasted Almonds
I decided that dough-free month began on Monday. I went by the health food store and picked up a small bag of honey roasted almonds because I figured they were tasty and they would stop me from feeling hungry. About 6:30pm I started having stomach cramps. This went on for a couple of hours. But, I already had a cold so I figured that it had become a stomach virus. Things die down, life returns to normal, or at least what passes for normal around here. On Wednesday, I’m at work trying to finish up an epic mailing and return to the same health food store for more of the honey roasted almonds.
That evening the stomach cramps return, this time coupled with vomiting and fever.
By Thursday, the worst of it has past, but I still feel shaky and intermittently feverish. The intermittent fever lasts for a few more days after that.
So, honey roasted almonds on Monday and Wednesday. Illness on both those days. I’m thinking there’s something wrong with the almonds. What do you think?
Cue the tragic irony music. My efforts to eat better end up with me poisoning myself? That’s something that shouldn’t be ignored.
So, no-dough month has been called off as I needed to find SOMETHING to eat and perhaps there is a less dramatic, more sustainable way of approaching this. Maybe I’ll have a mid-morning almond-free snack.
I meet with the naturopath in October and we’ll create a plan then. Until then, I’ll hope that my few days without dough has cleared the fog enough, that I can better pay attention to how food is making my body feel.
Anyone care to share their food poisoning horror stories? I await with bated breath.
Tentative Equinox North
Tentative Equinox 
You know my story, but I’ll share with all your lovely readers.
I got food poisoning on my anniversary weekend away in Victoria. I’ve always wanted to stay at the Empress Hotel, and my wonderful husband made it happen for our 19th wedding anniversary.
We ate lunch on a glorious sunny afternoon at a restaurant that shall be left nameless. Sitting on their outdoor patio, I was blissfully unaware that I was shoveling poisoned chicken caesar salad into my mouth.
My food poisoning was the type that comes on rapidly, violently and painfully. Let’s just say that the writhing around on the Empress bed was not the kind of writhing that I envisioned for our anniversary weekend.
6 months later, I still can’t eat chicken caesar salad.