Welcome to Friday’s TMI post.
I’ll admit, I’ve got a pretty good life. Great job, healthy kids, nice house. So perhaps I shouldn’t complain…but I’m gonna.
See, since I turned the big 3-0 (2 years ago), I’ve learned the hard way that I’m lactose intolerant. Milk and other dairy products are no longer my friends. This is So. Not. Fair.
When I was a kid, I loved having a big glass of milk with dinner. Ice cream was my buddy. As I grew older, and learned to cook, I delighted in baked macaroni and cheese. I found a delicious recipe for Chicken Enchiladas, covered in sour cream sauce, that I made my special signature dish. (Mmmm...don't they look good?)Are you seeing where I’m going with this?
My digestive tract is now rebelling against all of this…to the point that a single stupid slice of processed cheese food makes me nauseous. Really!
Me, the lover of all things dairy – now confined to the wilderness of soy-based products. Forced to read EVERY STINKING LABEL because so many items contain dairy. Like bread. And about 20% of all medications – adding insult to injury, most of the anti-nausea medicines included! In fact, I’m writing this angry post today because I’m currently sitting at my desk, miserable, since once again some dairy has slipped in unseen. Ugh.
Rant over. Go enjoy your weekend, and have some ice cream for me. Heaven knows I can’t!
