Last week, a colleague told me that she will not eat sugar for one month to purify her true self or something like that. She said we all need to cleanse our bodies every couple of months. It vaguely reminded me of the way R's father explained confession and sins over Sunday dinner so many years ago, when he was still hopeful to have me properly baptised and saved and all that.
I like the idea. Cleansing sounds good. During my final exams at uni, I fasted for 16 days, just tea and a bit of carrot juice. I wanted to impress this guy, a former bf who was studying medicine, he called every day to cheer me on and check my blood pressure. Much later, he confessed that I was one of 12, that I had been part of a study for his PhD thesis. His experimental design was a bit flawed regarding the informed consent but I remember feeling great, apart from very cold feet and a furry taste on my tongue.
Every morning I take five different medicines, two of which I also take every evening. On Tuesdays, I take medicine number 6, on Thursdays, number 7 and on Friday, I add number 8. I keep the crumpled up instruction leaflets to each of them in a box somewhere. Early on, R offered to make a spreadsheet of all the possible side effects. I begged him not to.
But I wonder. What if I just stop them for a month to purify my true self. To rediscover my body raw with illness, to watch what happens, to find that thin line again, between what's left of myself and being ill.
I mentioned this to one of my learned friends, someone with years of medical research behind her. I told her sort of by-the-way, as if I was telling a joke. I even laughed. She just put her hand on my arm to stop me and silently shook her head.
So yes, I hardly eat sugar anyway.