Wednesday, March 23, 2011

17 February 2011, 23:07 PST

Same day
23:07 PST

I don't think my tongue will ever be the same again, and that's nothing compared to the state of my stomach and small intestine.

Ow. Jesus.

Well, we hit a bit of a snag, and the universe kind of collapsed on itself, but I remain cautiously optimistic. [Inversely, the *hell* I did, but at the very least, I apparently kept my sense of humour. This gets me through most things. Except old ladies on buses with strollers who run over people's feet, and then bitch loudly about how he shouldn't have been in the way in the first place, to the point where the bus driver has to tell her that's *really* not necessarily, and the point at which I tell her to cry me a river. Oh, hello tangent. How are you this fine morning?]

Did British Airways have my gluten-free meal? No.

Was I hungry after leaving behind that pile of precious, precious undigested potato chips? Quite.

Did I eat some things I shouldn't have? Oh, hell yes. [Note to self: You *cannot* italicize your handwriting. It's slanty enough as it is.]

Will I be living with the damage for the next several weeks? Definitely. [And so I am. *shakes fist at British Airways*]

Am I sorry I did it? Well, I left behind the cheesecake - this was about survival, not dessert. But also, yes. And I'll get sorrier as time progresses.

I think the real key here is, Jess [It's quaint that I can't refer to myself as Catherine in writing. So ingrained is my stupid first name in my head.], you are not starving, no matter what your body tells you - there will be edible food again. whether you'll be able to eat it, is another story entirely. [Welcome to the world of my self-chastisement. It's a theme.]

Well, I guess there is one thing I can say pretty definitely: BA did make sure I got enough to eat - that I could eat [Only on a very technical level. It was gluten-free. I give them that.] - and ma'am, if you could just put down that bun for a minute and stop stabbing yourself with it, we can get you more salad, and some fruit. Please stop, it's painful to watch.

Dinner was chicken, cooked in I have no idea what, but I think (now, after the fact), was probably gravy - chicken a la poison, I assume - green beans, and probably the only mashed potatoes in existence cooked with flour.

There was also a salad of cucumber, tomato and onion. I'm not going to speculate as to which opened the gaping holes in my tongue, but ow. [Acidic foods give me not only acid reflux, but excessively painful canker sores. You want neither on a 9 hour flight overseas.].

I obviously skipped the cheesecake, but ate half a small roll just to shut up the aching gnaw. Blech. Bread is just how I remember it - fibrous and gluey. So, 18 days from now, when that meal finally makes its way through my system, a whole lot of villi are going to sob in pain as they throw themselves on their own swords [I summarize the basic effects of gluten on the person with celiac disease. You can read a more technical explanation elsewhere, but I think mine is more poignant. And funny.].

I ate more cucumber salad, some regular salad, and some fruit, a notable number of which were either citrus, or I'm allergic to them (fuck you, pineapple, you destroyer of worlds and roofs of mouths). So. Unnecessary roughage that won't digest for three weeks, and only very painfully, acidic fruit, and a relatively gluten-heavy meal. I'm sure my digestive system will have many conflicting things to say on the subject in the coming hours. Holy Jesus, cinnamon gum. [I popped a piece into my mouth as I was writing, hence the fact that it had nothing to do with the paragraph of which it was part.]

Just full of bright ideas tonight, aren't you, buddy? [When have I ever called myself buddy? Except, like, this situation right now.]

Woo, turbulence.

Yeah, I feel sick. Perhaps it's time to call it a night before I throw myself at another bread product in desperation.

...I have no one but myself to blame for this. I would cry, but crying alone on a flight to a foreign country, where I'll be even more alone (albeit briefly) just makes me even sadder.

I had a choice, even if it felt like I had none at the time. As such, I, and I alone have to deal with the outcome of that choice. Frig on toast. [Shut up, self, you are not a martyr. Nice use of "frig on toast," though.]

Guess I can't exactly complain about the pain, either. I brought it on myself.

Fuck. Ow.

23:42 PST

[No, really, the entries mostly get happier from here on. It was just a sucky beginning to the trip.]


  1. Re: Jess, if it makes you feel any better you are firmly Rin in my head...

    Ow owowowowowowowowowoowowowowowow OW I'm having stomach pains just reading this. Granted that may having something to do with the dairy I ingested the other day but OW OW OW OW.

    I summarize the basic effects of gluten on the person with celiac disease. what a wonderful basket of food allergyness description. I may print out the preceding paragraph and hand it to every person who gives me a funny look for refusing to eat perfectly normal looking food.

    aren't you, buddy? I'm having American!Magnus a la Bank Job flashbacks. I blame British Airways.

  2. Re: Rin/Jess. I've learned to respond to whatever people call me. Ruy's work friends/work wives know me as Catherine. My brother still calls me Jessi, my dad switches it up all the time, my mom calls me CJ unless her mind is somewhere else (she at least writes CJ, so that's good), my sister writes Catherine, but calls me Jessica. Every one of my new relatives (Ruy's) calls me Jessi. I refer to myself as Cat when I'm *not* writing, mostly because I like to make puns in my head about me and the kitties. Online, I'm Rin. I'm thinking of just creating a nice portmanteau. Like Jessarin. But something that sounds less like margarine. I ramble.

    You, me, and dairy. We love each other, dairy loves neither of us. Yes, I have stomach pain reading about my stomach pain, but also because I spent this afternoon violently puking up rice/corn pasta because it had beetroot in it, and of all the randomass things I could possibly also be allergic to, beets are it.

    Thank you for describing it as a basket. That made me giggle, because that is entirely something I would say. I wish I could've explained that to people in Germany, but I had enough trouble remembering any words other than thank you and you're welcome.

    Oh good, at least I'm channeling American!Canadian!Magnus. I do that. Man, I miss Sanctuary. I also blame British Airways, because good lord, they were kind of nothing but trouble.