Not who you know

Kris and I went for a walk with the dogs when he arrived home this evening. I had intended on being out and about this evening, but cancelled my plans as the day wore on. My legs were tired from PT this morning, my stomach ached, my shoulder hurt, I was tired, and just wanted to go to bed. As we walked, Kris had to listen to my lamenting for more blocks than any normal person could stand.

Kris, however, has the patience of a saint, and let me talk.

All the way until I asked, "What is it that's going on that every part of me seems to be falling apart at the same time?" I have these stupid carcinomas, my knee is killing me, I can't walk, I can't run, I'm exhausted al the time, and I just want to stop complaining all the time and start enjoying life again.

Never one to hold back when I ask an earnest question, Kris turned to me and stated flatly, "It's your diet. It's crap."

Momentarily surprised into silence, I recovered with a denial just about out my lips, before Kris continued.

"Sure, you eat lots of vegetables, and not a lot of meat, but you also eat a ton of sugar. I won't mention the chocolate. You don't eat enough vegetables even though that's all you eat sometimes. You think that a big salad is enough, but you're not getting enough protein. It's your diet."

We walked together in silence for a couple blocks, the dogs tugging on the leashes before Kris brought them back under control. I thought about what he said, that maybe I could eat better, maybe, just maybe I shouldn't assume I was eating well, and maybe I should pay attention better to what I eat.

The silence grew long enough that Kris had to ask, "Are you mad at me?"

"For telling me the truth? No," I responded, "Just thinking maybe I shouldn't have eaten that box of Girl Scout cookies this afternoon."

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