In the afternoon, I had an appointment with a nutritionist. I see one regularly for fiber and weight management counselling. It does me good - or at least I like to think so. The nutritionist I see is very professional. There isn't a lot of warmth to her, but I'm cool with that. She knows her stuff, which is what matters. Right away I told her my cholesterol news. As I predicted, she was shocked and stumped. There wasn't anything too groundbreaking she could share, but she did reassure me that it's OK to eat meat, eggs, and yogurt. They were foods I had been avoiding. More important, the nutritionist said my high cholesterol is genetic, which means that it will be tough to lower with dietary adjustments. None of this was new to me, but reiteration never hurts. The nutritionist repeated the same tips that both my mother and the Observer's mother shared. Moms are smart.
Last weekend I went to visit the Observer's family to wish them a happy Thanksgiving. I told his parents about my high cholesterol and they were very reassuring. The European diet and lifestyle tends to be quite healthy, so I knew the Observer's mother was on the healthy track. I felt better when we talked. She's such a calming lady. The Observer told how worried I am and I left feeling like I was going to live a little longer. We had pasta with pesto sauce, chicken, cucumber and tomato salad, eggplant and a beautiful apple tart for dessert. The tart looked like it belonged in a magazine. The pastry was perfectly shaped and there was sugar in all the right places. The tart reminded me of an upscale apple pie. There was a hint of orange. The dessert was yummy, but its perfect shape was what stayed with me. Looks aren't everything when it comes to people or food, but they can leave a memory... Dessert was delicious and pretty, but the espresso was my favourite part. Italians know how to make coffee better than any culture around. There is a reason they save drinking it until the end of a meal.
Today has been a bit frustrating. I drank my laxative mixed with Cool-aide and it has yet to kick in. All the liquid has made me have to pee, but that's not the result I want or need. An attendant complained when I called and told her that I needed to use the washroom. She is so rude. It's her job to help me use the bathroom. She told me she was about to have dinner. Sorry that I have to pee. I thanked her more than once for her help, but didn't apologize. What would I be apologizing for? I haven't ventured far today. I'm afraid it will hit me without warning. Needing coffee this afternoon, I did stop by Tim Hortons and had an espresso. Since I had to drink so much liquid this morning, I didn't want another coffee to cause a flood, but I did need a caffeine kick. The best thing about espresso is that a little goes a long way. The espresso did the trick and brightened me up. The employee who took my order forgot to put the two Splendas I asked for, but there was some left on the table, so I put it into my coffee myself. I was proud of myself. My coffee tasted extra sweet because of the thrill of my accomplishment. Though today wasn't one of my best, at least I had a good espresso...