You see, I’ve learned that food sensitivity can lead to inflammatory disease which causes heart disease, cancer and a large collection of other ailments. Consequently, I took a food sensitivity test. This wasn’t an allergy test; it was an “If your body doesn’t like certain foods, it sends out histamines to attack that food and it causes inflammation.” kind of test. Or something like that.

Well, when the test came back, I had six pages of food I react to, but the two worst were, wait for it: peanuts and almonds. Come on. Are you kidding me? No more peanut butter? No more PBJ sandwiches? No more peanut butter crackers? No more globs of peanut butter on a spoon? The other worst food, almonds, you know, those nuts I buy by the pound and mainline like I’m a meth addict. Almonds were my life.

After the off-the-charts peanuts and almonds, came dairy products including some of my very favorite: cheeses,  eggs, and yogurt. If that’s not bad enough, how about, are you kidding me, gluten? So, bread, pasta, donuts, beer, ya da ya da ya da. Oh, and did I mention black walnuts and coconuts? Then, there were four more pages of lower sensitivity foods that would leave me eating beef and bologna for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

It was a heartbreaking, literally heartbreaking, list that, except for one thing, black olives, took my food life away. Green olives are on that mildly sensitive list, but not black olives. Oh, and not sugar which everyone agrees is not good for you. Heck, coffee even made that mild list.

I’m thinking about eating hamburgers without any buns, onions, mustard or even lettuce. I’ll drink Kool-Aid. I’m not sure my inflammatory disease will clear up, and I’m not sure I’ll live any longer, but it certainly will feel like I did.

It’s a crazy ride, this thing called life. We know enough to know that we don’t know enough about much of anything, and we experiment with problems for which there may be no real solutions.

They call what I’m about to go on an elimination diet. You eliminate all of the sensitive stuff for four weeks, then add one food back at a time.

I saw a great line the other day that said, “I’m starting a diet today. So, last night I got rid of every bad food in my house. It was delicious.” I’m sitting here with a container of nut-filled, chocolate biscotti, and I may just dip them in a jar of Jif. But toast in the morning is going to be a rice cake covered in jelly, and my beverage will be hot water with lemon. Then, I’m going to remove my mattress from my bed and replace it with a bed of nails, heat up charcoal briquettes to walk on and practice sticking pins in my eyes.

Seriously, if I wanted to drop a few pounds, I could just have someone lock me in a refrigerator box and push green beans through a hole in the top, or I could go into one of those isolation water tubs for a month or two.

The good news is that I should drop enough weight to fit back into my skinny closet. Not the clothes, just the closet. Burp