waterfalls, hydroelectric production, heavy truck traffic on a
freeway. I do my best to keep on hand things that will beat it back
without bad reactions, especially when eating to satiation leads to a
distended belly cranking into high gear and launching through even
more quickly than usual.
The anti-anxiety aspects are supposed to help with the hyperactive
guts, an effect I hope to notice soon.
It appears that twice-weekly doses are what I can handle without
wigging too far out--it might make it easier to take some side effects
of teaching, but I'm not that interested in living and working through
a medicated high.
And after a week and change, I've noticed the smile I have to keep
plastered on my face comes more readily and naturally. This is a good
side effect.
But there's the "change in appetite" issue.
What was like the distant rumble of a major waterfall now feels like
standing in a rock at the edge of the precepice. And the threshold
between HUNGRY and 'okay, nevermind, I'll just go pass out now' has
been shortened accordingly. So my daily six pack of eggs now includes
a six pack of bananas and my 200 grammes of peanuts has a wallet-
squeezing couple handfulls of dried mango and durian (both fairly
cheap here) and if I get ambulatated in time I buy a few strips of
deep fried pork belly to get me to lunch, and on the walk home I get 4
skewers of chicken heart and liver, four tempura fingerling-size
mackerel, a few tempura shrimp, squid if they have it, and a bowl of
yam beanthred/seafood salad, which gets me to dinner along with an
apple and a jar of peanut butter.
That alone would put most Americans into Weight Watchers. But I have
my daily protein shake and three or for plates of both lunch and dinner.
Calorically, it's probably a hundred calories for every pound on me.
And still the hunger roars and grinds while the footing slips and
slides and my legs threaten collapse and my bones stick out at all
sorts of uncomfortable angles.
In September, I weighed 40 even wearing dress clothes and shoes. Last
week I was up to 46 with my school pack. And now I've breached 40 with
nothing but normal clothes and shoes.
At this point, it looks like my next visit stateside would he for
Christmas. If I can keep it up, by that time I might be pushing a
hundred. Maybe, if the drug cocktails kick in, I'll make to the
upside. What I would dearly love is a chance to spend a full day
teaching and not feel utterly defeated as I try to drag legs devoid of
all spring up the stairs.
What the hell, maybe by then I'll have gone local and decided there
are worse things than the (medically sanctioned) high life.
Sent from Speedy the ipod.
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