I’d give my right elbow for a mars bar right now. That glorious combination of sugar, cheap chocolate, caramel and gunge, all soft and decadent as it melts into oblivion on the tongue.
But this is the house of the unofficial detox and all foods containing processed sugars and fats have left the building for the sake of Husband Underfoot’s rattling gall stones.
It seems only fair that we go through this together. After all, my gall bladder is only 4 years younger than his and probably just as prone to pebbles. So the day of his diagnosis we stepped off the sugar carousel and into no-man’s land. No biscuits, no chocolate, no ice cream. No pizza, no cheese (most fats are out too). No alcohol – though that at least I’d already planned and has been remarkably easy to do.
The sugar hangover was humongous. It helped we were both crashing at exactly the same time. We just went to bed at 7pm with hot water bottles and whimpered. Now we have come out of the other side and I will admit we are both feeling virtuous and smug (don’t worry, it won’t last…).
The real crushing piggery of this detox is he’s merrily shedding the pounds while mine are stubbornly maintaining their grip on my chin line. Still, it’s only been 12 days and HUF is feeling much better (yay!).
Last night though. Last night was Friday and Friday should include some indulgence surely? I stood in front of the counter at M&S’s in-store bakery with the sweet smell of icing sugar in my nostrils staring fixedly at the Victoria sponge muffins. The apex of sweetness – buttercream icing sugar, jam and vanilla sponge in perfect harmony. Not to be. I had a banana.
And today? A bit better though Mars Bars are singing a siren song. And my right elbow hurts because I’ve spannered the nerve that runs right round my funny bone. A swap would be good.
I will persevere. Make more lemon tea. Hug HUF. Hug the dog. Resist…
(Confession – I did have a chocolate teacake when I met Sarah for coffee on Thursday. The bliss! Was a lovely catch up too.)