On A Diet

I was prescribed a diet recently. I have stomach ache of unknown origin, and gastritis is your usual suspect. This tentative diagnosis always comes with a diet: you have to eat 6 times a day, preferably on a strict schedule. Your choice of food is limited; most of it comes boiled or stewed. Well, at least I’m allowed 70 grams o biscuit a day, some butter and 25 grams of sugar (which I don’t use). The serving are modest, and out of those 6 food intakes only 3 are real meals, the others are jelly, or briar brew, or just milk in the evening.

Apart from following the diet, I have to take pills 3 times a day to get my idle gall-bladder working (the condition is called biliary dyskinesia).

The surprising part about this limiting condition — I begin to like it. I was never good at structuring my life. Being self-employed or independent remote contractor didn’t help me lead a meticulously structured life. I always tended to stay late, to work extra hours, to have late dinner, even later supper or skip the meal altogether.

I know its bad. I’ve read tons of books and articles about circadian/ultradian rhythms and how important they are for health. I have a lot of health issues connected to my chaotic lifestyle which are only going to become worse if I stay the incorrigible offender I am.

Well the diet has started to change it all. My day evolves around drug intake and consequent meal. I’m only a few days into the diet, and I already start to salivate at exact time of a day, much like a Pavlovian dog. I don’t mind it: being reminded of my human condition, my dependency on food, and water, and warmth helps me stay humble. I’am reminded of my limitations, and a superimposed requirement to act within them, to respect them.

The rest of my daily routine lines up around my eating and it feels good. I finally have a skeleton for a day, a set essential requirements to build my life around. Even my sleep (which is a different matter) is already getting better: I have to sleep in order not to miss my breakfast.