Bah. Humbug. My digestive system and I are not on speaking terms. So to speak.
It started over the weekend. We were having a lovely time, helping friends celebrate their wedding in Bucks County, Pa. The bride was beautiful and they make an incredibly lovely couple. Lovely family, when you count the bride’s incredibly cute, incredibly intelligent 10-year-old son.
The groom is a chef, most recently with a top-ranked restaurant in New York City. Thus, the food was excellent. Friday night we had dinner at a lovely B&B in Newtown, Pa. My pancetta wrapped salmon with baby clam and cheese risotto was scrumptious. The next day, the groom cooked a feast for friends and family. My favorite was the maple-glazed chicken with cranberries and almonds, but the English peas with pistachios ran a close second. Sunday, he grilled steaks and served them with a shitake mushroom sauce and lots of leftovers from the nuptual feast. Yum! And of course there was the wedding cake, the chocolate grooms cake, and fine wines. Bagels and cream cheese. Good coffee. Tasty nibblies.
And a fine time was had by all. And then my digestive system got a bit testy. All this fine rich food and wine is foreign to it. It normally survives on naked tuna, pot roast, chocolate chip cookies, rot-gut coffee, and cheap Chardonnay. “Stop!” it cried, holding my lower right ribs hostage.
One internet connection and a little research later, I’m concluding that it’s most likely the gallbladder, confused as hell by all the French cuisine I inflicted upon it this weekend. So, while I wait for my HR department to actually prove to me that I have insurance coverage (60 days of full employment, and still no insurance card), I’m eating a fat-free, caffeine-free, alcohol-free, fun-free, flavor-free diet. That pretty much leaves me with poached eggs and dry toast, oatmeal, naked potatoes, hot lemon water, fat-free reconstituted turkey slices, and pretzels. Not nearly as yummy as Chef Joseph’s cooking, but the pain has subsided to a dull ache.
Today the insurance company finally coughed up a valid plan number and an email verifying coverage. Tomorrow I suppose I should find a doctor and make an appointment.