Ah, the things we do for the chance to gestate another human.
This morning, for the third morning in a row, I pulled out various items from the fridge to prepare for myself a nice little breaking of the fast. There was some bread for toast, orange juice (no pulp, thank-you-very-much-parental-units-who-insisted-on-purchasing-medium-pulp-variety-over-Christmas-which-I-just-finished-yesterday!), quasi-butter spread, fruit salad, and liquid of iron.
Yes, you read that last item right. You see, upon the advice of my acupuncturist, I am now downing a capful of the most vile drink every morning with the cheerful name of Flor.adix. It’s supposed to increase my lining, which I’ve never heard that I have a problem with, but what’s the harm in trying it on for size?
From the Dickensian looking bottle to the admonition to refrigerate it upon opening lest it start to ferment (!), I have to say that I was a wee bit leery of getting involved with something like this as my first foray into the world of herbal medicine. And, it’s taste has not helped matters. It has quickly become more vile to me than coffee, Kahlua, Bailey’s Irish Creme and a banana milkshake thrown together. It continues to taunt my gag reflex, although, by day two I learned that it was made considerably less objectionable with a quick chaser of orange juice.
But, there is at least one bright spot, one thing that keeps me constantly amused.
This pièce de résistance?
It turns my pee bright, canary yellow. It’s so cheerful, like having a smiley face looking back at you every time. I don’t think my pee has ever been so happy.
image: Marianne Perdomo