Doctor, when can I eat hard cheeses again?
—Liz Lemon from an episode of 30 Rock (“Future Husband”)
I almost said these exact words. Recently, while taking antibiotics to combat an illness, the doctor ordered me to avoid two things: dairy and sunlight. No problem. Who needs dairy and sunlight? Besides well-balanced human beings who enjoy life and feel happiness.
But I like not being dead, so I follow directions. I shield myself from dairy and hide from the sun, hoping this is not how vampires are born. Occasionally, I crawl out of bed to eat. No butter. No cheese. No dairy of any kind. In the dark. A melange of medication for dessert. Tiramisu is played out, anyway.
This week, I finished the last of the antibiotics. Now, I can finish the last of the ice cream.
This blog post is dedicated to my dear friend, Jill. Most co-workers, friends and frenemies sent me traditional “get well” messages. But Jill threatened me on Facebook:
so, can I remove your blog from my RSS feed? because it hasn’t been updated in months. what, was your level of food snobbery not welcome in portland? have you started putting A1 on your well done filets?
Her kind words touched me in ways I can not describe. A cold day, devoid of sunlight was brightened by the warmth of this message. I credit my quick recovery to Jill’s boundless compassion. Fancypants Ivy League educated medical professionals will claim that prescription drugs and modern medicine are the real heroes, but I — and everyone reading this — knows the truth.