Bad Gut

I almost stayed in bed for the entire weekend. My back hurts like hell, felt queasy and disgustingly bloated. I’ve managed to go to the mall after lunch last Saturday thinking I could shake it off but went home after an hour as I wasn’t feeling any better.

The following morning is laundry day. Even if I wasn’t feeling well when I woke up, I dragged my butt; ate two slices of loaf and off I went carrying more than 10 kilos of dirty clothes. If I flake out and stay in bed, I’m pretty sure I’d only feel worse.

The rest of the day, however, was spent inside my room — indisposed.

I wish I knew what’s going on without having to go to the doctor (did you notice how most doctors let their patients wait for hours?). I don’t want to Google my symptoms either—as it will only give me the worst case of cyberchondria because if it isn’t cancer, it is some hard-to-pronounce illness enough to freak out the overthinker in me.

But yeah — I’m not feeling my best lately. It isn’t the flu or anything that I’d catch because of the season, but more of a general feeling of weakness and discomfort.

My main complaint is my gut. There’s seems to be some trouble brewing inside after every meal. It’s not an urge to do number two, just that feeling of heaviness. At first, I thought it’s just me PMS-ing, but now I suspect my intestines are sluggish or even blocked. It seems I can’t digest my food very well and it just stays right in my stomach as belly fat.

While I can blame my slower metabolism, or the fact that I might already be perimenopausal, or my history of thyroid problems, I’m also aware that poor diet and lack of exercise is the culprit.

Looking sideways in front of the mirror became an eye-opener of sorts because now it looked like I’ve ingested a balloon. It scared me enough that I’m now reducing my rice intake every meal, leaving me hungry and grumpy (because kanin is life). Then again I supposed that if I don’t do something about it now, I’m sure to regret it when I can already pass as Santa by Christmas with my protruding stomach alone.

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Just recently, I have a former classmate in grade school who posted on IG about the pain he’s having due to gout. I left a comment telling him to feel well and added that it seems we are starting to feel all of these already (obviously speaking more for myself). There was a hint of whining in his reply, saying it’s still too early for us.

He has a point. To surrender to the fact that “we’re getting there” and we’d just have to accept it is not only premature but also unfair to ourselves. While we may not be getting any younger, I don’t want to think that we can’t do anything about it anymore. That I can’t do anything about it anymore.

Meanwhile, seeing the Super Bowl halftime performance of J.Lo and Shakira last week didn’t help at all. J. Lo, 50, and Shakira, 43, both gave me hard smack in the face what some women their age can STILL do. C’mon — did you see how they shake those damn hips like they’re missing several bones in their body? And here I am popping Flanax when nights get extra chilly.

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As I’ve said I’ve started to cut rice, pork also—substituting it with canned tuna or veggies (goodbye, bagnet!). I’ve already succeeded in avoiding soda for a while now, something that is a feat considering how I was a Coca-Cola addict in my twenties.

Exercise is another thing I lack obviously, sitting in the office for about four to six hours every day. At least within my shift, the only exercise I do is walk to the ladies’ room when I have to, or maybe go down to the mezzanine floor during breaks. When I feel a tinge of guilt due to lack of physical activity for the day, I walk from the office to the mall which is about one and a quarter mile and consider it as my workout for the day. At least with that, I can flex whatever remaining energy and strength I have inside my body.

Our company has this tie-up with a famous co-ed fitness gym for a discounted membership. I can also borrow my brother’s trail mountain bike or go back to jogging every weekend — nothing is stopping me to get physical, except my good old-fashioned lazy ass.

To be quite honest I don’t even know how long I can go on with this. See, I have this attitude when I start something with enthusiasm and then it fizzles out after a while. Plus, I don’t trust myself when it comes to my love for food. If you knew me long enough, eating makes me happy and I absolutely hate being deprived of my cravings.

I would like to ask you to wish me luck, but this thing needs more like a Divine intervention.