Ever heard “what you love the most has the power to hurt you the most”, or something along that line? 

It all started with my intention to lose the excess 2 kgs off my thighs and butts and arms and tummy and wherever wobbly bits are visible along my torso. You may say that “two kgs is not that much, really”, but it is (really) for a small girl, especially when you’re only 1.5m high (or short), or even less. It has been a continual, profound desire to live healthier by hitting the treadmill every evening after work and cutting back cold desserts. I’ve also started visiting the ‘old habit’ that has successfully transformed me from a 52kgs buntelan into a gaunt, skinny 42kgs elf-like 5 years ago; by eating small portions throughout the day, and cutting back carbohydrate. I was only 0.3 points or a kilo away from being underweight according to an online BMI index, Mum went berserk to see me so bony and didn’t stop pestering me to eat until I slowly gone back up to a normal 44-45kgs. And I feel my best when I’m around those numbers. 

But moi body disagrees with me this time. 

First is the gastric ulcer. I’ve had it since my younger age, and it keeps coming back, though I always make sure that I have food in my stomach. I have stacks of Mylanta Forte on my bedside drawer just in case. This stupid ulcer also makes me highly intolerant to milk, yoghurt and coffee, which really kills because I LOVE milk and frozen yoghurt. 

Second is food poisoning. I can’t remember what I ate but I had this baadd baadd food poisoning early this year; nothing stayed in the belly for longer than 20mins I had to bring Norit everywhere I went. The second time I had to suffer the same thing was in mid July. Again I couldn’t figure out what dirt flown into my mouth that I had to become a seasonal pilgrim with short route between my bed and my toilet. Badgering myself with Norit and Mylanta yet again, I finally regained my health with occasional prickly sensation in the tummy at the end of those bad days, which I carelessly brushed off. 

And guess what. I just had it again. Two days ago. This time I knew why I had it. It was because of keripik singkong balado!! 

*throwing a childish whining, crying fit*
*stomping feet on the floor*
*cries some more*

You’ve got to understand this. Keripik Singkong Balado (KSB) is the most delicious snack ever existed on the face of the earth. (DON’T LAUGH! Stop it!). I am salivating over the image of them, they’re like the red thread, or golden thread or wateva colored thread between me and my childhood. I read a quote somewhere that said, “hang on to your childhood, ’cause it’s the only thing you own that’ll stay with you”. KSB is the top representative agent of my childhood moments, and it crushed me to accept that now I can’t even enjoy them without writhing in pain *crushed crushed*. 

Dad took me to the emergency ward at the nearest hospital at 6am yesterday, because I just couldn’t hold the pain any longer. Two Mylanta Forte between 2am and 4am didn’t do any magic. Half hour at the emergency ward lying down on the cot, the calm (or sleepy, I’m not sure. And I can’t blame him, really, he’s got an inhuman shift hour) doctor said that it was a possible colon infection. There goes my KSB. And that explained the prickly sensation I had whenever I ate spicy food. The doctor gave me a strip of antibiotics and another strip of Buscopan. Dad said it’s for the spasm in the colon. U huh, but why do I feel that those pills actually give me spasm inside because I feel bloated right after I take them? And followed by walking down the ‘memory lane’ a.k.a toilet afterwards?

The only bright side out of this whole situation is that, I lost a kilo. In the morning. Hahahaha not bad lah yah. 

Wow, this must be the vainest post I’ve ever written. (I think). But lessons learned. I should’ve known better not to eat anything too much, especially when I know that my tummy has not been in its perfect shape (pun intended. *sigh*)

I just feel a bit reluctant to accept the fact that I have to eat KSB very cautiously from now on. 

Agh.. move on, will ya. Now back to the boring, eyesore-ing data cross-checking.

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