Yes, once again, my colon has decided to show me who’s boss. It’s a benevolent dictator, really: provided I toe the party line, I get to keep my fine job, spacious apartment and weekend dacha by the lake. But when I decide to be a spoiled brat and assert my right to individual expression in the form of forbidden carbohydrates and intensely caffeinated beverages, I get my ass kicked. Literally.
The good news is I’ll finally get a semi-scientific read on how well these toxic immunosuppressants work to keep the bugs at bay vs. the diet. I have The Good Insurance through the end of the year, so tomorrow, I’m scheduling what will be the last of my free-ride colonoscopies for some time. And since this is the first time I’m getting one when (a) I’m on meds for reals and (b) I’m mad cheating on the SCD, I’ll finally have actual, visual proof of what my gut has been telling me (literally) for a long time: I do better off carbs AND meds.
Not that my beloved-if-blinded-by-Big-Medicine GI docmeister will agree with me. But since I will pretty much be my own health insurance for the foreseeable future, his vote doesn’t count for much anymore…