I’ve got no clue what’s going on with my body. I’ve got this crazy heartburn that I only experienced during pregnancy. I’m fiddling with medicines and assuming that’s the culprit. I’m trying to ignore it and eat Tums but it’s getting tough.
Before I left for Phoenix I’d taken an ALCAT blood test with PreviLean. It’s basically a blood test to find out if you’re sensitive to certain foods, molds and chemicals. For the next few months I’ll be partnering with them and sharing my progress with y’all.
Starting with PreviLean is so weird in a wonderful way. First of all your insurance may or may not cover it so it’s strange to engage a medical team directly. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a blood test that wasn’t part of a check up or spoken to a nurse that wasn’t in a doctor’s office. There was something strange and liberating about having a kit for a blood draw come to my house. If I wasn’t a nice Jewish Girl from Los Angeles I’d have called the toll free number and a phlebotomist would have been sent to my home or office to take my blood. Since I am a nice Jewish Girl from Los Angeles I’m pretty much guaranteed that someone in the family has been to medical school.
So before leaving for Phoenix I had the test in my car and was going to call and have someone draw my blood when I realized I’d be driving past my Mom’s house. “Is Doc around?” I asked her. “Why?” She asked me. “I need fake Doctoring.” I replied. A few minutes later this was the dining room table.
Don’t worry, it’s safe to eat there now.
Actually my Stepfather used to take my blood a lot. I am a passer outer (that’s the scientific term for it) and it really wasn’t that big of a deal until I was pregnant with Jane and all of a sudden they were taking blood every few weeks. After fainting in the OB’s office we struck a deal. I’d have my Stepfather take my blood and he’d send the results to the OB. It worked out perfectly. I’d go over there for dinner, we’d head to a sofa where I’d give him my arm and then when I’d pass out there would be a soft landing. Of course having the cats crawling all over me lent a special touch of hygiene…
So it was this weird sense of taking control of my body by opting into a test that my insurance might say is not medically necessary but could become a factor in my health and at the same time having my Stepfather drawing blood as he did 13 and then 11 years ago when I was pregnant. Strange in a good way I suppose.
Now I’m here with my weird heartburn wondering if the ALCAT test will tell me that I can’t eat my favorite foods. I’m concerned about cheese and jalapeños, I’m not convinced I can live a happy life without either of those things. I’ve recently given up grains and sugar (except that cake last night… which totally wasn’t worth it) and I know that life is unpleasant without bread. I’m sort of excited about trying a healthier way of eating and also dreading it because I’m afraid of them telling me I have to give up what I love. I’m more afraid of adding more medicines to my regime so I’m hopeful that the test can help with the inflammation I’m living with.
Also, I gave up grains and sugar because my friend Anna started doing a podcast with a local personal trainer, Vinnie Tortorich. The podcast is amazing but it’s creating a little friction in my life. I love spending time with Anna and usually I can get a solid hour with her while she gives me recipes and anecdotes and we talk a lot about food and exercise. Now I’m lazy, I just listen to the podcast and text Anna because I feel like I’ve had a visit… which of course I haven’t. So I guess the podcast is technically breaking us up.
You really do want to listen to them all, here’s a link for them on itunes. If you just want to listen to the most recent one and you’re not interested in itunes you’ll want this episode. In it Anna asks Howie Mandel (yes, that Howie Mandel) if the carpet matches the drapes. Being bald and all there are some references to “hard wood”. So ummmmm if you want to know about Howie Mandel’s penis I’m pretty sure this podcast is the only place you’ll get that bit of chatter.