The Unbearable Lightness Of Farting
Gasoline Underpants, Ahoy!
Dr. Ding tentatively titled this post “Hi. I’m Living In Hell While Wearing Gasoline Underpants. Won’t You Join Me?” but I resisted. Color you impressed.
I also briefly considered the Lovecraftian: In Her House At Whole Foods’lyeh Dead Dr. Dingthulhu Lies Dreaming, but frankly that seemed like a reach.
Let me share my schizoaffective, semi-coherent story with you. Three weeks ago my doctor noticed that my routine labwork had suddenly come back all hinky: various lipids elevated, increased blood pressure, weight soaring, yadda yadda. You know. The whole you-have-to-totally-change-your-diet-right-fucking-now thing.
My doctor is pretty cutting-edge in his understanding of PCOS and endometriosis, two conditions I’ve had for years. He’s smart and compassionate. But he is also incredibly, artfully sneaky. This was no ordinary diet he put me on.
“So honey,” he says, in a very charming and offhanded way as I sit, goggle-eyed at my horrid lab values, “we’re going to put you on a diet. It’s a very simple diet, very easy to follow, it’s a cleansing diet. You’ll see the nutritionist next. Come back in 4 weeks to see me.”
That sounded doable. A cleansing diet. Sounded positively spiritual So I trundled off the next week to see the nutritionist, totally unsuspecting what was about to happen next.
“No dairy. No cheese, no milk, no casein, no eggs, no salt” she said, reading the list in front of me of acceptable vs unacceptable foods. Well gee sure, I thought: what silly goose ever heard of a cleansing diet gunked up with cheese and salt?
No Bacon For Ding
“No red meat. No alcohol. No pork. No caffeine,” she continued. I was starting to get uneasy because I really, really, really love bacon, as many of you know. My relationship with its salty, porkfatty goodness is both ancient and profound. But I took a deep breath and didn’t freak out or grab her by her skinny nutritionist arms and threaten her into allowing me to eat bacon. I am very proud of this.
“No artificial sweeteners. No sugar. No peanut butter. No diet soda. No gluten. No wheat, barley, rye, corn, or oats. No citrus.”
By this time I was ready to cry, hot, bacony tears of fear. What did she mean, no diet soda or lattes? Or diet Jell-O? Or strawberries? Or shrimp? What the helly helle kind of diet was this, anyway? But then the final blow was delivered.
“Oh and you have to drink these nutritional shakes designed to clean out your gastrointestinal system on an increasing schedule for 11 days, when you’ll be up to 4 of them a day. And days 12 through 14 you will be fasting, save for drinking 5 of these shakes each day. You will drink a shake per day for breakfast every day for the next 3 months.”
Oh sweet GirlJesus™. Fasting is against the way of my people. I vainly searched her face for signs of sarcasm, irony, or practical jokery. Bupkes. You see, I had had these so-called shakes a few years ago, with disastrous results. And when I say disastrous, I mean: repeatedly gagging and then upchucking into the sink because they taste exactly like a foot rolled in turmeric.
She said a lot of other stuff about how I’d “get to” eat any kind of legume I wanted, and could eat any kind of vegetable but I couldn’t have fruit more than twice a day, but I could barely hear her through my bacon, cheese, and Diet Pepsi withdrawals which had already commenced. Yes, I am that suggestible when it comes to food. Duh.
I would like to tell you what all has happened since that time, but to be blunt, I really can’t remember. Turns out this is an elimination diet protocol i.e. giving up anything that tastes good to you in hopes of healing the immune system by way of healing the digestive tract. Simple, my ass. There’s nothing simple about it.
I’ve pretty much been in a state of shock for three weeks. The first week was spent trying to wean my shaky, tired self off caffeine. The second week was spent trying not to have a psychotic break from all the turmeric plus lack of solid food. This last week I’ve been able to chop vegetables without supervision and perform other simple tasks like laundry and even sometimes returning phonecalls! Today is the first day I’ve felt like writing been able to compose my thoughts in a sufficiently logical fashion to permit writing to happen.
Somehow throughout all of this I’ve managed to assess and treat 25+ new patients. Of course, I can’t remember any of their names or where their rooms are located, but hey that’s what charts are for, motherfuckers.
I have lost 11 pounds, as of today’s doctor visit, and my diastolic BP is down nearly 10 points. When my doc asked me how I was, I was honest: “I’m freaking starving and P.S. I totally just cut one. A really big one. In fact, that fart was so well-developed it had teeth and hair and what I suspect might be the first glimmerings of a soul.” He was unperturbed by this revelation, and encouraged me to keep going, said most people lose 10 to 14 pounds in the first month and that I was actually a little ahead of schedule in terms of shitting my giblets out my bunghole.
Of course this means now I’m all smug and high on myself in addition to being slightly dissociated from reality. I am also pretty much some kind of neurotoxic fart machine from all the beans and raw veggies.
You know what’s funny? As loath as I am to admit it, I feel a LOT better. My eyesight is actually clearer. My joints don’t ache like they used to. Oddly enough, I am getting to like herbal tea a whole lot. I attribute this some kinda fuckity version of the Stockholm Syndrome. My GI tract, although sonically rather magnificent in its trumpetings, is now functioning 100% perfectly which it hadn’t in years; I’d always thought it was the endo. Turns out I might actually have a gluten intolerance, and that this in turn makes the endo pain way worse than it needs to be, among other things. Aren’t you fascinated? Fucking endo.
I will probably bore you with more tales of my flatulent, grumpily shrinking ass later.
In the meantime, I will drink herbal tea with motherfucking stevia in it. I may be living a disgustingly healthy lifestyle for the next 3 months but I don’t have to like it and I will be using words like “motherfucker” “bacon-centric” and “fucktarded” a whole lot. Look for them.
| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
I was having all kinds of fun issues too- high BP, too much weight etc. I decided to become meatatarian. I eat a nice, healthy veggie diet all week and then Sundays, we drag out the grill and go to town. I too feel better and have lost weight but, unlike you, I’m much quieter now than I was before.
I am so amazed and excited that you are feeling better and continuing on. Does this mean we cant take any more booze cruises? Have you converted forever? I guess if you really feel better and have health benefits from it I won’t mind giving up the booze part as long as we can still swim with dolphins and lay around the pool. Oh, and don’t forget the massages.
Trainer: I like your idea of being a “meatatarian” on the weekends…I might have to try that!
Gail: You know me. I loves mah bacon, and I love me some cheese. And occasionally (and *especially* when on a cruise ship) I love me a couple bone-dry, slightly filthy top-shelf vodka martinis with extra olives. I plan to enjoy all these things in the future, at some unspecified point. Not to worry my friend. All is well. I haven’t started putting leaves in my hair and going by the name of Rainforest Toejamb just yet.
I’ve been wondering where you are and now I know. Wow. Really, I can’t say anything but “wow”. Push come to shove, ya gotta do what you gotta do for your body but “wow”. I am so sorry that you are going through this but (and I really am sorry to have to say this but I must) I’m glad I get to enjoy the stories and writing that it inspires. Fucking hilarious.
Ok, I’m really feeling for you, but I have to tell you I am laughing my ass over here (ahhh - if only we could do that, you could eat the bako again!) Reminds me of when I tried to give up carbs - made mashed potatoes out of cauliflower. Do not do this. The photo you provide says it all. I think if I went on this diet I would have some type of spiritual awakening - without my daily large iced coffee, I would lose more than my ability to be flatulently repsonsible. You go girl!!! If nothing else, you will learn (as you already have) many nuggets of infinite wisdom from this gastrointestinal experiment.
“…fuckity version of Stockholm Syndrome” might just be the funniest thing I have ever read on the internet… Once again, it’s purpose has been achieved and I can now die peacefully.
I have gluten intolerance. Farting is a way of being at our house.
My personal favorite was giblets out the bunghole.
Oh, Dr. Ding. You are a gift. I laughed out loud, more than once, while reading. I felt badly, finding such humor in your apparent misery, but I know that you are a generous soul. You’d want me to laugh, right?
First of all, I love the use of the word “hinky.” I’m glad that your lab results are no longer “hinky.” Second, the contemplation of your “trumpeting” bowels will stay with me for a long time. In fact, I may not be able to think of you now without thinking of sonorous farting, too. Finally, I feel really awful for sending you all that trash food after the hurricane. I’m very sorry. I didn’t know I was, in fact, killing you.
Your post made me think of one of my favorite quotes by my mother-in-law (of sorts). On some days, she is a little more flatulent than others. She is 83, tiny, and Dutch. She can fart with the best of em though. She’ll putter around the kitchen in the morning and let one loose. Then, she’ll sigh and say, “Whew…Good thing I’m not on roller skates.” First time I heard her say that, I nearly fell on the floor laughing.
Keep up your good work. You are a source of inspiration for us all.
Woman. I know this is no laughing matter, but all this is god damn funny.
Quite frankly, if I was put on this diet I’m sure I would be answering this from jail. Because I’d cut a bitch on a daily. I could live without some of those things, but all of it? OH HELL NO. You are a testament to strong will and I bow to you.
Good luck with it all and please, do propel yourself into the stratosphere with all that awesome gas.
Hey Dingtastico!
“I totally just cut one. A really big one. In fact, that fart was so well-developed it had teeth and hair and what I suspect might be the first glimmerings of a soul.”
Huzzah. A nod to the political controversies of the day.
When you see the light and join us whole foods shopping hippies for good you can come to yoga. Not only do we fart proudly, but we get to do it on the instructor when he twists us into the human pretzel pose. The best part? It doesn’t faze him one bit.
I have the best readers. Ever.
Kristin: Welcome! I’m delighted that you share my flatulence! Honest. And your blog? Killer bee!
Vikki: I’m delighted that you enjoyed the giblets-bunghole reference. I’m not really sure what giblets are, or where there exact location would be in the human body, but there you have it. Everyone needs to read your blog, by the way.
Anthony: Never fear about trying to kill me, darlin’! My tootage now functions as a sophisticated type of alarm system. If I get within 20 feet of Cheez-Its or spray cheese, I start emitting high-frequency clicks from my posterior. Dolphins then come to my rescue. I think your M-I-L and I would totally get along. If we both wore gas masks that is.
Ali: I would totally want you to laugh, yes. I took the hiatus from the blog until I could find humor in my gastrointestinal situation myself, and then I wanted to share. Also: I believe you have just now given the world a brilliant idea for solving the gasoline crisis….utilizing methane to rocket ourselves around! All we need is a constant supply of garbanzo beans and some raw broccoli and voila!
Also-I haven’t cut a bitch….YET.
Dr. Miggy: The estimable Dr. Miggy! You know, I gotta confess-I had no idea I was referring to the political controversies of the day, but if semi-self-cognizant flatus is a hot topic, then yes, yes I was being all controversial and stuff. Oh definitely!
Are you doing the hot Bikram yoga? I’ve mostly done hatha, but I’m way out of practice at this point. Way.
I am no longer doing Bikram ™ but have switched to Ashtanga, or “power yoga” as us westerners like to call it. It whups mah booty. Bonus: Now when I do the muscle man pose with my arms I look like Mr. Clean, if Mr. Clean were a 5 foot tall woman with a full head of hair.
Dr. Miggy:
You rock on with your badself! Sounds great!
it took me four attempts before I figured out that it was Google Chrome not letting me respond…d’oh.
giblets out of bunghole…good times! Not toworry..I shall restore the bacon order for you.
Do you think Nabisco will develop a gluten free Triscuit? Nahh..me neither.
You have probably already found this site, but in case you haven’t http://www.glutenfreegirl.blogspot.com She’s the schizzle.
xoxo
j
[...] been busy, bitchez. I been doing this and chopping vegetables for my crazy-assed diet, and seeing like a gazillion patients a [...]
I love that crazy fire photo!
I’m so glad that you’re feeling better. I hope things settle down enough you can come back out and play again sometime, you’re greatly missed!! xoxo, Angela
Hope you feel better…. Sounds like a diet I should try ????
[...] Ding because I feel the need for some fart humor elegantly dressed in GRE vocabulary Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)Seven Habits, [...]
OMFG, Doc. I actually can’t breathe at this point… haven’t inhaled laughter like that in a while! Should I be concerned that this post just made me hungry? lol
Meanwhile, you’ve got to love a ‘diet’ where listing the things you *can* eat is the more efficient option
Anyone who manages to work the word ‘bunghole’ into their blog gets a solid (heart foundation) tick of approval from me, btw… How about a YouTube cartoon on this fart with a soul? It’d be bigger than Sponge Bob, I’m sure or at least definitely less completely spazztastic.
[...] still be writing about farts aplenty, since I’m going to be restarting my assplosion diet of yore, The Elimination Diet. Etsy: [...]