I’ve just finished my two days of the low fibre so-called “white diet”, and good riddance.
I never realized how hard it would be to avoid fibre. By chance ( ? ) I didn’t cook anything for myself in that time, and it feels so wrong to have to pick food that is super bland with none of that stuff that we’re usually encouraged to eat: fresh fruit and veges, nuts, seeds, and colourful foods. This was my post yoga meal last night, when we usually go for burgers and beersies.
If I was in France and feeling generous I’d call it a croque madame. In actuality it was a calorie laden cheese toastie with a fried egg on top. You’d think it would feel good to eat food you might consider a treat, but it seems you can’t change the habit of a lifetime – it just made me feel sick.
Similarly, this is what I ate for my last meal an hour ago:
On rereading the instructions just now I see it was supposed to be a light meal such as a soup. I thought I was doing the right thing with a potato topped mince pie! Oh well. It’s possible I’ll end up on the naughty list tomorrow if my bowel isn’t as pristine as they’d like, but as long as they don’t cancel me I don’t mind. To cheer myself up I’m just eating a small chocolate: “in for a penny, in for a pound” as they say. I’m wanting them to spot any giant tumours in there anyway, anything small can get picked up next time. As it is my bowels were already making strangled gripey noises all through our production planning meeting that I’ve just left.
I’ve been getting advice from colleagues about the procedure this week. It seems that any cohort of middle aged white anaesthetists is far more likely to have someone in it with personal experience of a colonoscopy than a collection of higher risk individuals, such as any other ethnic group, which is a sad indictment of our health system of course. To be honest what they’ve told me makes me glad it’ll all be over in 24 hours.