Hex Kitten
05-01-2010, 12:12 AM
Making scrambled eggs a little while ago made me laugh since I was after I had realized i was having a gluten reaction. In addition to some intestinal disturbances, I also experience irritability and confusion, or just space out entirely. I am still laughing at my experience from a little while ago. Here goes:
I got a pan out of the cabinet, then noticed I had some other clean pans in the drainer I could put away, so I did that while I had the drawer open.
Then I saw clean bowls I could put away in the cabinet overhead, did that, started on the silverware and then thought hey wtf am I doing? putting dishes away? I came in here to cook. I pulled one of the clean bowls I had just put away out of the cabinet and set it on the counter next to the stove.
After turning the burner on to start warming the pan, I headed toward the fridge for eggs and almost whacked my face on the cabinet door I had left open. I stared at it for a second before closing it, starting to get mildly irritated at how hard it seemed to do this simple task. I grabbed two eggs, had one left in the carton so I set the last egg on top of the new carton of eggs, set the two I was going to use on the counter and tried to throw the carton away, only to find there was no bag in the trash can.
This caused a new wave of confusion as I realized I needed both hands in order to place a new bag in the garbage can, a really simple task, but I couldn't decide what to do with the empty egg carton in my hand. I stared at it for a second, said "hmm" a couple times, then came to the conclusion that it was okay to drop it on the floor next to the garbage can while I got a bag. I finally took care of that and got the carton disposed of, then addressed the eggs.
Wait a minute, my brain interrupted, there's no margarine in the pan. A quick check confirmed that I hadn't even taken it out of the fridge yet, so I grabbed it, popped the lid off and grabbed a spoon to dole some out. A spoon? I stopped and stared at the spoon, wondering what had possessed me to choose that when I normally use a butter knife for such a task. After taking a moment to decide where to set the spoon down (since I had already forgotten where it came from), I pulled a knife out of the utensil cup in the dish drainer and almost deposited a dab of margarine in the bowl on top of the beaten eggs...wait, what? Then I managed to get it in the pan that had been hot for several minutes already.
Once I got through that step, everything else went smoothly. I cooked the eggs, plated them, poured myself the last of the homestyle Tropicana orange juice and disposed of the carton without incident. What happened before that is beyond me. I'm usually pretty "with it" in everyday life, but gluten reactions, even when mild, seem to throw me off. I'm not sure if I get distracted because I'm experiencing some moderate to severe discomfort, or if it's a neurological symptom...could be a little of both, I guess.
While this story seems all the more ridiculous with each time I read over it, it doesn't shine a light to the time I inadvertently wedged my hand between the arm of my office chair and the underside of my desk and stared at it, unsure of how to remedy the situation to make the pain stop. "What the fuck" is an understatement there.
I got a pan out of the cabinet, then noticed I had some other clean pans in the drainer I could put away, so I did that while I had the drawer open.
Then I saw clean bowls I could put away in the cabinet overhead, did that, started on the silverware and then thought hey wtf am I doing? putting dishes away? I came in here to cook. I pulled one of the clean bowls I had just put away out of the cabinet and set it on the counter next to the stove.
After turning the burner on to start warming the pan, I headed toward the fridge for eggs and almost whacked my face on the cabinet door I had left open. I stared at it for a second before closing it, starting to get mildly irritated at how hard it seemed to do this simple task. I grabbed two eggs, had one left in the carton so I set the last egg on top of the new carton of eggs, set the two I was going to use on the counter and tried to throw the carton away, only to find there was no bag in the trash can.
This caused a new wave of confusion as I realized I needed both hands in order to place a new bag in the garbage can, a really simple task, but I couldn't decide what to do with the empty egg carton in my hand. I stared at it for a second, said "hmm" a couple times, then came to the conclusion that it was okay to drop it on the floor next to the garbage can while I got a bag. I finally took care of that and got the carton disposed of, then addressed the eggs.
Wait a minute, my brain interrupted, there's no margarine in the pan. A quick check confirmed that I hadn't even taken it out of the fridge yet, so I grabbed it, popped the lid off and grabbed a spoon to dole some out. A spoon? I stopped and stared at the spoon, wondering what had possessed me to choose that when I normally use a butter knife for such a task. After taking a moment to decide where to set the spoon down (since I had already forgotten where it came from), I pulled a knife out of the utensil cup in the dish drainer and almost deposited a dab of margarine in the bowl on top of the beaten eggs...wait, what? Then I managed to get it in the pan that had been hot for several minutes already.
Once I got through that step, everything else went smoothly. I cooked the eggs, plated them, poured myself the last of the homestyle Tropicana orange juice and disposed of the carton without incident. What happened before that is beyond me. I'm usually pretty "with it" in everyday life, but gluten reactions, even when mild, seem to throw me off. I'm not sure if I get distracted because I'm experiencing some moderate to severe discomfort, or if it's a neurological symptom...could be a little of both, I guess.
While this story seems all the more ridiculous with each time I read over it, it doesn't shine a light to the time I inadvertently wedged my hand between the arm of my office chair and the underside of my desk and stared at it, unsure of how to remedy the situation to make the pain stop. "What the fuck" is an understatement there.