Vegetarian No More

RP_fish_ac Somehow  I am ashamed to admit that I shouldn’t really be calling myself vegetarian anymore. Health reasons… but, back in 1989, I only started by giving up meat. For spiritual reasons, linked to food density and metaphysics cf Pythagoras.

To me all life is sentient, so killing only animals never really figured in my reasoning.

I well remember the day before cutting out all meat that I went to an expensive restaurant near where I lived and had steak tartare for lunch. It was so heavy and rich, I fell asleep – in the middle of the afternoon! Haven’t knowingly touched meat since. Unless you count those Polish ‘vegetarian’ dishes swimming in revolting animal fats which I unwittingly tasted (and spat out).

But I wasn’t a vegetarian as fish was still on the menu. More specifically, shellfish and smoked salmon. That pescatarian period lasted for about 4 years or so until I developed a very serious allergy. Over that time I had at least 3 allergic reactions resulting in serious difficulty breathing and finally gave up fish when I landed up in Santa Monica ER with full blown anaphylaxis. Yeah, you’d have thought I had a death wish!!!

And so from c 1993 till 2003, I was religiously vegetarian – though never vegan. Even gave up alcohol and coffee for a number of years.

Then in 2002 I had a serious car crash and my left hand was very badly injured. My little finger and ring finger were so badly broken and the bones on the back of my hand were so crushed I had two general anaesthetics – one week apart.

It was recommended I ate oily fish to aid healing but it still took several weeks before I took the step back to eating fish again. Clearly not shellfish though because of the since confirmed allergy. I did however stop and revert to a vegetarian diet once it looked like no further progress could or would be made with the fingers. (I still have adhesions in that hand.)

Anyway, now it’s 2009 and my normally smooth unmarked back is covered in large dark brown splodges. But it wasn’t just that. My scalp was burning and reduced me to tears from the pain. I could almost live with oily gunk on my head every night but it was the seeming endlessness of it which made me go to the GP who immediately referred me to a dermatologist.

After several visits (to the dermatologist – and another story in itself), it transpired I had a ‘serious allergy’ to tomatoes – which as you probably know includes aubergines, chillis, peppers and potatoes. Also included were soy products. Now for a veggie, that leaves next to bugger-all you have left!

Within a couple of weeks of giving up all those food stuffs, all splodges went and my back reverted to its normal niceness. Phew! Palpable relief. (The itchy scalp thankfully stopped after giving up cheese.)

Then, circa 2013 (not entirely sure exactly when TBH but at least two full years if not longer), I started to get hives on one side of my stomach and on one shoulder. I didn’t bother going back to the dermatologist, just got a repeat prescription for anti-histamines and Eumovate and did my own elimination diet.

And, oh misery, no rice, no green veg, even carrots and peas caused reactions. Eating became so stressful and my social life died as it was so difficult finding anything to eat.

Who knows what the issue could be: histamine levels, lousy enzyme digestives, leaky gut, liver not healing properly or just plain stress? It all meant I had to start eating fish again – albeit not every week.

Then I had a fright a while back with low white blood cell count so had to take collagen.So I am now in a position where I am a vegetarian by desire alone. I still think of myself as a veggie but clearly am not – hence this confession.

That said, unless a doctor orders it, it is unlikely I’ll be eating meat, let alone another steak tartare!   .

Related Images:

Last Memory of Ma

DSC00555  DSC00551

From Facebook Memories, something I haven’t read in years. The cartoon is a gift I gave her, with some of the words from her own diaries. (You may recall she had an alternative reality on life. Well, I guess that’s one way of putting it!) The other image is called Kamala Resurrection.

Anyway, here is the blog post from 2010:

The last two weeks of Ma’s life were a total roller coaster of emotions: being with her when she was taken into Worthing Hospital and really thinking she would pass on that night. Yet, a few hours later, she was beaming widely, kissing the hands of the nurses who looked after her.

From my 2009 journals: “Sat 21: Not sure who will die first – me or Ma. Got call at around 4 this morning. Was at the nursing home by 05:15hrs and twenty minutes or so later following the ambulance to the hospital.

X-Rays, ECGs and more and all the while she was looking comatose, unblinking. The nearest she got to movement was being gently prodded in the bowel area. Faecal blockage in elderly can apparently cause similar sensory impasse.

Several hours later, I was still concerned enough to ask for a priest to administer the Last Rites. Then, hallelujah, she tried to talk (she had an oxygen mask on) and her eyes were bright again. She held my hand and tried to kiss it saying ‘thank you’.”

I had been with her earlier the day she died – 5th March – and her legs were like tree trunks. Our tiny Ma.

Also from my 2009 journals: “Wed 4: Risked visiting out of hours to help Ma eat but today she was not allowed food prior to an ultrasound later in the afternoon. She still can only manage one word at a time and flags almost immediately, but is still mentally quite sharp.

She was trying to signal me to look under her blanket and I was utterly horrified by how massive her legs were. Luckily a doctor was doing his rounds and said it was something to do with albumen(?) and that when she starts moving around again, they would go down. Not sure when that is going to happen as they had to use the hoist to get her back into bed yesterday apparently because she could not move and neither could they help her without it.

My emotions are bit fraught as one moment she has one foot on the other side and the next she is beaming broadly and kissing my hand (and those of anyone else who helps her). But it made me weep today, seeing her in evident pain, coughing and struggling to breathe and swallow.”

Times passes and memories fade. Words help to relive the moment though, so I am glad of these.

Related Images:

Sorry could be my middle name.

no images were found

I say sorry when I get justifiably angry. I even say sorry when it’s not my fault. I say sorry if I haven’t heard something clearly and sorry when I bump into someone – or vice versa. Yet many people do not appear to have the word in their mental vocab at all.

Curiously, not only do they fail to acknowledge their root fault in creating dissention but a good many of those latter usually go on to continue commiting more of the same or fresh and inventive ones. It’s like a primary particle of self-awareness is missing from their genetic makeup. Continue reading

Related Images: