Purge

To “purge" primarily means to cleanse or purify, either by removing something harmful, like sin or idolatry, or by expelling a wicked person from a community.

The body is an amazing machine. If it doesn’t like what is put in it, it purges. What is not going to be used (or is disagreeable with the inner lining), will be purged (one way  or another). 

In my ongoing discovery of aging, I find myself with aches and pains never suffered before. I get pains in my stomach, so I  measure what I’ve eaten and how much I consumed then wait to see if my body asked for some more fuel or I was just bored. I spend more time on the porcelain throne than I ever remembered in efforts not to get stuffed up. I eat smaller portions of better produce, beans and breakfast burritos and wait to see if the results are stimulating or just bloating. Some chalky Tum tablets help control the overpowering belching (blamed on carbonated water or just the body expelling gas). 

If the body doesn’t process correctly, I get a pain in my back. Standing and walking become stiff and being horizontal sometimes relieves the problem. 

Yesterday was one of those days. Wake up from a few naps. My back feels like I've stretched it too far and stumbled like Frankenstein to heat up water for coffee. I’ll not be getting any chores done in this condition, so I return to bed. I list in my mind the food I’ve eaten in the past couple of days (coconut chocolate cake, coffee ice cream, pecan coffee cake) and consider being clogged. The loo is a no-go so I slowly venture outside to get some fresh air and sunshine. 

I decided to accomplish something, so I set up an account on Instacart to order blueberries, p-nuts and beer (just to see how it works). Within two hours, my request is delivered and after a scan of my ID and a scribble on a screen, I have plenty of hydration and treats for the critter crewe. While enjoying the antics at the buffet I eat a handful of potato chips just to fill the belly. The body seems to be relaxing.

Then it happens.

The body decided it didn’t like the chips and beer, so projectile vomit purged the last entry. The interior tiled walls welcomed me to the potty to purge everything further down the line. Clean as a whistle.

Today, my back is better, my stomach seemed to survive the coffee and walking is back to a normal cadience. 

I’m not a doctor or play one on television, but maybe it was the sugar rush that I usually don’t eat (except on birthdays) or a buildup of something else, so I wait to see how today goes. Hydration seems to be holding steady, but I’m cautious in the amount of swallowing. I avoid the chips. 

Feeling adventurous (and knowing that I need some fuel even though there is no desire for hunger) I fry up a ham steak and heat up some black-eyed peas. Don’t eat too fast and then wait. A few chalky tablets and everything seems in sync. Phew!

Finally I climb into the bed and don’t feel stiff or bloated. No bleaching or hiccups or regurgitation. Then, what I believe will be a fart, comes with an unexpected blast of extra remnants of the black-eyed peas. The next hour was spent sitting down and dumping the rest of the purge. Changing to new sleeping apparel (for tomorrow is washing day), I tentatively  hope to rest again. 

Though all this description of aging may sound unhealthy or cause a feeling of disgust, this process of maintaining our plumbing to process our intake of nutrition to pump our fuel throughout to reach the next birthday. Aging also rationalizes the function of caretaking when you are physically unable to. How old or feeble will it be until someone else has to change your bedsheets and mop up behind you? Are you children ready for that responsibility? If not, what is the cost?

Today, the meal for the day was french style green beans and whole potatoes. Let’s see what happens. 

PS: For a high point of the day, Al came by to visit. He caused a fuss with Sheryl, Russell and Counting but he kept coming back to the sanctuary of Puppywoods. Good to see you again my friend.