So I got the results of the glorious twenty-four urine collection I had last week. (Yes, that sentence was dripping with sarcasm and derision.)
It turns out that after analyzing my pee (Aside here: who grows up wanting to work with pee? This is why I maintain that urologists are weird and always grouchy.) the good people at lab have determined that I have too much sodium in my body and it is causing the kidney stones.
Sodium, delicious, delicious sodium is the culprit to all my pain and suffering.
My husband is striving valiantly to suppress his urge to shout from the rooftops, “I told you so!” while I am doing everything in my power to not lay on my bed and cry buckets of tears.
It’s just so hard for me to contemplate a world without gratuitous use of the salt shaker whenever I want.
I’m in shock and dismay, gentle reader. I’ve always been a salty girl. While some people live for the ice cream, I lust after the chips. This is who I am. This is my identity. Or at least it was…
To give you a small glimpse of my suffering I’ve written a poem. As always, it is modeled after a book I love; in this case Good Night Moon.
Good-bye to all the processed foods I crave:
Good-bye Dorritos and Fritos and Lays,
Good-bye Chef Boyardee and ranch dressing.
Good-bye canned soups (this is getting depressing.)
Good-bye to the salt in a my little shaker,
Good-bye to instant oatmeal from Quaker.
Good-bye to popcorn as a daily snack.
Good-bye to those Little Debbie packs.
And good-bye to lots and lots of cheese,
Parmesan, Cheddar, Gouda and Brie.
Good-bye to my urologist’s glare
and the stern disapproval he blares
as he holds my renal ultrasound and stares.
Good-bye sodium, everywhere.
So if you happen to have any low-sodium recipes or tricks up your sleeve, gentle reader now is the time to share them. Send them my way, I’ll just be here staring forlornly at my blue container of Morton’s Salt with the cute little girl holding the umbrella on it.