Never again...

It's been at least three years since I have eaten at McDonald's.  That was before.  Before my diagnosis.  Before the food poisoning that set off my new life of innards misery.  Before I even moved here.  Before.

I should have given thought ... any amount of thought ... before eating at a "new" place since my autonomic nervous system took a dive off the proverbial cliff.  I forgot that I was helping my friend who always helps me when I said it was a good time for my pastor to visit.  So, to make up for having her son spend some time in the after school program before fetching him, I took him to a restaurant of his choosing.  He chose McDonald's.

The fries!  Hot, fresh, crispy ... and enough for at least three folk.  Then the rather large bacon cheeseburger.  I thought I was then done, until we walked by the poster for an eggnog shake.  Yes, I had at least 4 of my 6-8 meals in one setting.  But I do not think the continued problems--way too similar to the food poisoning for my liking--are merely because my straying from the straight and narrow path of micro-meals.

Oh, how ill I have been.
And am.
And despair of when this will end.

SIGH.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!