Husband read somewhere that according to Scientists at the University of Southern California, ‘A person's entire immune system can be rejuvenated by fasting for as little as three days as it triggers the body to start producing new white blood cells. He has now decided spend the next three days fasting to restart his immune system.
I can't stop the screaming inside my head.
Normal people would get a physical every year and go to the doctor when their tummy hurt. And when the doctor told them to cut out eating whatever made their tummy hurt, cut out eating whatever that was. Husband has decided to fast for three days to fix that pesky immune system that’s telling him something is wrong.
Now, if I don’t eat for a few hours I turn into something resembling a Tasmanian devil with a toothache. I am not pretty to be around. Any one who asks me a stupid question is likely to get their head torn off, chewed and thrown away. Over the course of our marriage, Husband and I have had plenty of fights begin with me not eating when I should have, starting some stupid fight over some inane thing and ending with him telling me, not too politely, that I’m “big enough and ugly enough to feed myself.”
I’m sure if a study were done, it would find that most traffic accidents occurring during the evening commute would likely be attributed to folks driving while hungry, making rash and distracted choices due to their rumbling tummies resulting in accidents. I know that when I’ve driven while hungry, I’ve been quick on that horn, quick to cut someone off and quicker to cuss as a result. Not eating for three days would likely make me ram my car into folks while turning the air blue instead of just quietly honking and calling their mama names under my breath.
No food for three days.
Husband’s plan is to start today with a large breakfast and then not eat again until Monday morning. Actually, he started with several fancy unfiltered beers at an event last night because unfiltered beers have all the good healthy stuff in them that fill the system. Or so said the guy peddling the beers. At one point, I think they convinced him that beer was just as good for you as water and that he could drink it during the fast. My laughing in his face changed his mind.
Folks at Husband's work have a betting pool to see how long he can go. Most have picked Saturday afternoon as his breaking point. I’m not betting against him. Husband is one stubborn ass. In order to make it through the fast, he’s informed me he’s planning to spend his entire weekend in bed. He’s also requested I don’t cook anything smelly. Ha. I don’t cook. And I didn’t even bother to ask him not to make the bedroom smelly. I can only imagine that as your body starts to grab what it needs from your body fat, it’s going to process some of that into a noxious gas. And that gas has to come out somewhere. And that somewhere is not going to be near me if I can help it.
I’ve scheduled lots of activities outside of the house and plan on tiptoeing around when I am there, trying not to wake the angry beast. I’ve also planned to sleep in a separate room, though I am currently trying to see if there are any good rates on hotels near me. Tigger the Dog and I might need to flee the house suddenly for safety. I’m pretty sure that after not eating for three days, the dog is going to look like a giant 80 lb.. appetizer to Husband and we can’t have that. Tigger the Dog may be a whining furry pain in the butt most of the time but I’d hate to see her as dinner.
Please pray for our health and sanity.
Oh. And, while you’re at it, pray for Husbands success. This “reset the system” fast thing better work. He can’t take my nagging him about the doctor anymore and I can't take another weekend like the one I'm about to have.