I had nothing interesting to report yesterday. I got home before The Boy, so I stared at a banana for two full minutes debating whether or not to cheat on my self-imposed regimen. I didn't cave. Instead, I ate stupid chicken and broccoli. Bleh.
Today, I was also a good girl. I have determined that I can eat Old Bay. So I had scrambled eggs smothered in Old Bay since I can't have cheese.
Here's the bigger issue. I feel like shit. The first time I did this elimination diet, about a year ago, I was pissy about the food, and I started to get symptoms of hypoglycemia from the lack of carbs, but my fibro symptoms didn't worsen. This time, they are hell. I can't sleep for shit. I look like I've been punched. My eyes are blood shot. I can barely get up the steps because my legs hurt so bad. I believe the difference is that I am on diflucan this time, instead of nystatin. This, my dear readers, is what they call the herxheimer reaction. My symptoms are getting worse as the bad shit dies. I dealt with this during the Valcyte period. (At least there are no hallucinations or anything this time. Although, if there were, I'm prety sure they would involve dancing, singing fruit, taunting me with their sweet melodies.)
I am not giving up. I am sticking with this. It is self-imposed this time. I am getting this round of candida out of my system and then I am avoiding antibiotics for as long as I possibly can. (I am quite sure that two rounds of antibiotics started this flare up in the fall. That and my love of sweet delicious sugar.)
Two more work days to get through. Two more work days. That's it. (otherwise, I will look like the walking dead soon.) New T3/T4 combination thyroid meds will be up to full strength dose on Saturday. Something has to work. I feel like an old lady. (yet the real age test says I'm 33, which is a mere 6 months off.)
I'm tired. Maybe I'll try to go to sleep on the couch with the nudists. They are always sleeping just fine. Perhaps a change of scenery will work. UGH.
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