Milk and I used to be friends.
When I was nine I was diagnosed with an ulcer. Following conventional wisdom at the time, my parents began making sure I ate more cottage cheese and drank a lot of milk.
I grew to enjoy milk (except that white water many call "Skim") and its dairy brethren. All seemed well. Then, about 15 years ago I started having "issues". You know, rumbly in my tumbly issues. Issues that I have blogged about many times over. So, I went to a doctor and was tested for lactose intolerance.
Now, I have always been a tolerant soul. And sure enough, the test was negative...which, I believe is a double negative --- negative lactose intolerance = lactose tolerance.
So I continued down the dairy path, depending on it as one of my sources of chocolate, strawberry, and cereal lubricant (sounds sort of dirty). Yet, my issues continued.
So, about 5 years ago I decided to try going almost dairy free (still have cottage cheese and an occasional Blizzard). It seemed to help my issues. Unfortuntately, it also magnified the effect when I did have dairy. Really magnified. I mean really, to the degree of being able to clear out an auditorium type of magnification.
All this brings me to another sobering event in my life, that happened this evening. As I stood in the grocery store looking for my preferred brand of......SOY MILK, I was approached by a very sweet elderly woman who proceeded to point out to me the best soy for a sensitive, OLDER digestive system. I wanted to let out a blood curdling scream and run from the store like the mob running from the Blob.
However, I held it together, thanked her for her kindness, grabbed a couple containers of the brand "preferred 4 to 1", and headed for the exit. I sobbed to myself all the way home.
I am beginning to think buying Mrs. WHW's "special time" stuff is easier than I thought.
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