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Abstract

th, food scientists simply build on what we are wired to crave.</p><p id="a8dc">From <a href="https://www.webmd.com/diet/features/13-ways-to-fight-sugar-cravings#1">WebMD</a>:</p><p id="958f"><i>…Americans do overconsume, averaging about 22 teaspoons of added sugars per day, according to the American <a href="https://www.webmd.com/heart/picture-of-the-heart">Heart</a> Association, which recommends limiting added sugars to about 6 teaspoons per day for women and 9 for men.</i></p><p id="4b06">There is sugar in damned near everything, if it’s processed, along with additional salts and other crap you and I can’t pronounce. So it was easy to pack it on as some of us had to turn to packaged foods when getting to the grocer, or at least doing it safely, got harder.</p><p id="f572">Under Covid, many if not most of us packed on pounds, feeding ourselves “comfort foods,” many if not most of which included added sugars, if not were pure sugar, as in candies and chocolate bars. I know I did.</p><figure id="9904"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*2Yle9ir1P2JupdYN"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@heatherbarnes?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Heather Barnes</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="713b">For me, however, it was more about pure stress. It’s hard to make a huge cross-country move. That’s one of life’s biggest stressors. Add to that a trip to the hospital with a kidney infection and stones, then a nasty car accident, well. It’s been quite the year and it ain’t done yet. Hardly.</p><p id="2bc7">The extreme stressors of those events were just part of the overall circumstance set.</p><p id="a524">I had to completely overhaul my diet at 67, given that I have Interstitial Cystitis and kidney stones. IC is, to my mind, a catch-all phrase that means <i>we have no clue but we’ll give it a name to sound official.</i></p><p id="3708">I know what IC is like in practice. Bad enough so that when handed a long list of Do Not Eats, I was happy to comply.</p><p id="4e89">Now handed a much, much longer additional list to prevent a recurrence of oxalate kidney stones, I was also told in no uncertain terms that salt, and my beloved sugar, were off the table. Worse, NO MORE CHOCOLATE.</p><p id="7147">Even worse, NO MORE CHOCOLATE ALMONDS. As in <b>ever</b>.</p><p id="685d">Well. <i>Shit</i>.</p><p id="3ad0">While in some ways this is a blessing, I will confess that the forced divorce from one of Life’s Great Joys- milk chocolate almonds-was hard.</p><figure id="4e2b"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*lngsYribIcdTKR5w"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@grimnoire?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">emy</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="8e44">Unlike a friend, who, when faced with the same list I got, he intoned with great gravity, that he would “eat what I want and deal with the stones,” I like being alive. Those stones nearly killed me. Imagine eating what you want, but living with a potentially deadly Sword of Damocles over your head.</p><p id="8231">I can’t speak for anyone else, but kidney stones equal suffering. At least for me they do, and for anyone else I’ve ever spoken with who has experienced them. To that, and again I can only speak for myself, stuffing my favorite foods down my gullet out of the need to put my gustatory delights ahead of both my personal safety and that of others seems stupid at best, and foolish at worst.</p><p id="9c1c">The reason, at least in my case, that such decisions have the potential to hurt others, there’s this: I flipped my car because of a kidney stone in July. It was only stupid damned luck I didn’t land on top of a car full of kids, or cause oncoming traffic to swerve and kill off those occupants. You see my point.</p><p id="fb17">Our self-serving selfishness can indeed affect others in ways that we most certainly don’t intend. If, however, you and I learn that our desires can hurt others, and I am just teasing out food here, then it seems incumbent upon us to <i>back the fuck off.</i></p><p id="12f6">If what you and I ingest makes us unhealthy, causes us disease and other issues, then it’s most certainly not just about us. It’s very much about those who count on us, love us and want us to stick around a bit longer.</p><p id="cd30">But that’s just me.</p><p id="7086">In a country full of folks who can’t be bothered to wear masks because it protects OTHER people, why on earth should I expect those same folks to make better choices about their health for the same reasons?</p><p id="bc02">But I digress.</p><figure id="eb2f"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*G9hwJ4RPM6v3rvvE"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@ahungryblonde_?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Sara Dubler</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="4089">In my favorite <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Buddhas-Teaching-Transforming-Liberation/dp/0767903692">book </a>by Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, he points out that you and I, when and if we are able to identify the source of our suffering, in this case for me both IC and kidney stones, we can choose not to ingest those things which cause us suffering. While in the largest sense this

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would be just as applicable to ingesting doom material, hate speech and the like, let’s just keep this to sugar, my beloved nemesis.</p><p id="f7b9">I was given long and difficult lists to redirect my eating habits to prevent stones. But also those nasty IC flareups which mean long nights on the toilet with no relief in sight and the unhappy prospect of having to wear Certain Undergarments. Look. For me it was easy. I have no interest in making myself suffer physically any more than necessary.</p><p id="5603">What that meant was that those foods were off the menu. Yeah, and forever this time. No more <i>next time</i>, or <i>just a little. Just one</i>. Because for me and my compulsive nature, Just One is an invitation to the Whole Damned Bag.</p><p id="e78b">I am as bad as a reformed alcoholic invited into a bar. Just a sip, that’s all.</p><p id="8e80">Not on your life, especially if it really does mean your life.</p><p id="fcfc">Since July, I’ve not had any of the foods on the May Not Have List.</p><p id="6458">Several things have happened. Not only has my weight, which had risen some 23 pounds, dropped back down (at first to sheer stress, and now it’s maintenance). The other gift, which has been echoed by fellow Medium writers, is that the tongue gets retrained naturally to enjoy what Nature has always offered us as natural candy: berries, bananas, apples, the sweet treats without the damaging <a href="https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/323818">fructose</a>. Honey in my hot milk, for I had to give up tea and coffee because of the oxalates and tannins, is sweet enough.</p><p id="8033">A big handful of green grapes is about as sweet as I can handle. Those are my big, big treats. A Honey Crisp apple is nearly a meal unto itself. I have found immense joy in scarfing down a six ounce package of huge blackberries, and I never leave the house without two big apples in the console when I need consolation.</p><p id="a3e6">Why apples? There are all kinds of reasons that the old saw of an apple a day really is based on solid science:</p><div id="c1b4" class="link-block"> <a href="https://www.besthealthmag.ca/best-eats/nutrition/health-benefits-apples/"> <div> <div> <h2>13 Surprising Health Benefits of Apples That'll Have You Eating One (or More) a Day</h2> <div><h3>Sometimes the simplest foods are the best foods for us. You don't have to be a nutritionist to realize that apples are…</h3></div> <div><p>www.besthealthmag.ca</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*nwBspeSWAwx2gW2Q)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="30e6">If you can eat apples, have at it. As with all issues dietary, know what you can and can’t have.</p><p id="ba78">You may do that research and STILL eat shit. At that point, when the body rebels and we get sick, or get stones, or expire early, there really is just one person to blame.</p><p id="95c5">One Medium buddy had to do much the same thing with her body. She told me I could retrain my sweet tooth, and she’s right. While I will still use sweetener (certain kinds, not all), I have noticed that in the largest sense, giving up sugar has given me back two things: the body I had, which is much happier where I am now; better health from taking out those substances that make me feel heavy and logey; and better long-term health by removing substances that my particular body doesn’t like.</p><figure id="4e78"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*mIPHlZYL_YbLhX2a"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@elldot_?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Leon Ell'</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="6eb0">That last is likely true for all of us. I’ve written elsewhere that as we age, our dietary needs change. For some it’s just fewer calories. For others, for whatever reason, as we shift into life’s later gears, nutritional needs shift with us. Not paying attention can cost us dearly. Learning what we need, and still not paying attention, is just plain stupid, if not spiteful behavior towards the only instrument we have through which to experience life on Earth.</p><p id="24b9">Retraining my sweet tooth this year wasn’t strictly about getting my pre-breakup, pre-Covid body back. It wasn’t just about stating my gustatory freedom from the bad juju the breakup left behind. It was as much a statement of a genuine commitment to vibrant health as anything. While yes, you’re damned right I miss my chocolate almonds (which at one point my <i>Illumination </i>buddy <a href="undefined">Charles Roast</a> offered to send me express mail, bless his six-pack-protected good heart), I am done with them.</p><p id="873d"><b>That’s a statement of freedom.</b> From bad food, bad diseases, bad side effects. And the freedom to eat what Nature intended as our sweets, some of which (citrus, pineapple) I’ve also had to give up. But what’s left is plenty.</p><figure id="3621"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*b94AMNsik10wYjYD"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@clemono?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Clem Onojeghuo</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></article></body>

MEMOIR

What It’s Like Witnessing Life Coming into Being

The moment when time became relative

Photo by Craig Pattenaude on Unsplash

“Try not to push. The other doctor is coming.”

“I can’t help it,” she said as she groaned in pain.

Her face was covered in sweat, she was breathing heavily, her screams intensifying the tense aura of the labour room.

She was a 27-year-old woman and this was her third child.

I am a third-year medical student studying in Pakistan and I had gynaecology clinical rotations a few months back. I got to witness vaginal birth for the first time in my life.

In these clinical rotations, I saw the wonders of life and the strength of a woman.

I watch a lot of family videos on YouTube (that’s my guilty pleasure) and they always say with baggy eyes and a tired voice, literally being in the hospital having given birth just a few half hours ago, that birth is a beautiful experience.

But as I stood there near the mother moaning in pain, I could not see the beauty the YouTubers promised about.

All of it was intense, chaotic, life-changing but maybe not beautiful.

I stood in the corner, squeezing my back to the wall trying to make space in front of me clearer for the doctors and the nurses to rush from as the room was quite small.

I could feel knots tied in my stomach and I was holding my breath tight enough to be as invisible as I could be not to disturb the staff with my presence.

All the things we had studied in books; the conception, the zygote formation, the blastocyst, and then the development of a teeny tiny heart, the limbs initially as little buds, the eyes, the rest of the face, the overall growth of the baby and after what must seem an eternity to the mother — the climax of parturition.

It was a novel of its own genre.

It was an amalgamation of emotions witnessing all that we had studied in books with now the mother’s cries propagating through the air as time became relative. It seemed to be the longest I have ever stood.

Her belly was contracting like the tides of the Pacific Ocean yet she was filled with a fierce determination.

The stretcher, which she was lying on, resembled the altar of life where she was the ultimate nature’s incarnate breathing the rhythms of the generations of women before her and performing God’s work on earth.

The other doctor was just a moment busy on the other side of the room when suddenly the woman’s water broke.

It was everywhere.

“Blood, mucous, dilation, 1, 3, 6 to 10 centimeters…” were all the voices we heard.

Before we could even understand what was happening, the baby’s head popped out.

The doctor grasped her by the neck and with one, two, three more pushes, the baby had come into being.

She cried out the sound that signifies the symphony of life itself.

The cry was a relief for the room where anticipation hung in the air like a promise.

It was the cry.

The doctor put the baby on the mother’s belly and she immediately calmed down with the skin’s touch.

It was an intense moment as I knew that touch was the first sense a baby develops and it helps soothe the baby as it is their first form of communication.

The umbilical cord, a thick thread in which time and destiny were intricately woven together, was still attached to the baby. But it was cut as soon as the baby and the mama were relieved.

The baby was taken away by the paediatrician to prepare her for the life ahead in a world yet strange to her eyes.

The mother’s uterus was then cleaned and the baby was getting ready for her life ahead.

I was watching a TED talk by Cassie Jaye, the director of the documentary The Red Pill. Somewhere along the 18 minutes, her one line caught me off-guard. She said:

“Just look around, everyone you see was birthed by a woman.”

Isn’t that powerful? This statement has always stuck with me, but when I was standing in the Labour Room and the Operation Theatre, I felt it like a powerful force taking over my body.

A mother is a warrior, fighting a battle not with sword and shield, but with love.

How beautiful and dangerous is a woman!

That day I went home and hugged my mother because a thank you will never suffice the pain any mother faces.

In the later days, I got to see many C-sections and held a lot of babies. I grew a new kind of respect for mothers.

Life
Medical
Hospital
Memoir
Birth
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