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We are at the local sandwich shop, my husband and I. I look at everything on the menu knowing each and every single item will hurt my stomach. My stomach is a source of pain for me all the time, but no doctor can tell me why.
It's Celiacs--nope it's not. It's allergies--nope it's not.
Nothing will fix it. I will be in pain forever, I think. So I order the large roast beef sub with mayo, onions, and pickles. My husband raises his eyebrows but knows better than to say something. I have been upset about an incident at school today. It is worse for me when I'm unsure of the outcome. I look down at my sub and forget about school. I eat the sandwich so fast I barely remember the chewy roast beef, the crunchy onions, the sour pickles, and the creamy mayo. My sub is gone. My husband, who is a fast eater by nature, still has most of his in front of him. "Hungry?," he says. I nod.
And then the pain comes. Sharp pains in my lower left side that radiate throughout my stomach. It feels like the worst gas imaginable, but there is no release. I put my hand on my stomach. My husband shakes his head. He is used to my mistreatment of myself.
Food is my savior and my enemy.