August 30, 2004

Ultimate Deprivation

Who says "you've got to be shitting me!" to her ENT? (That's shorthand for Ear Nose & Throat doctor for you folks who may be abbreviatorily challenged.) Why, Wendy does! Or she did. Once. It was purely reflexive. And quite appropriate. Despite being out of character.

On the "Top Ten List of Things My Girlfriend Considers Essential to Life", Salt (capital "S" intentional) is a featured item. Most likely it's in the Top Five, but who really wants to quantify things in their life to that degree? I'm only trying to give a little informational perspective here.

Many people keep a salt shaker on their dining room table. We, in pursuit of convenience, are a bit different. Yes, we keep a salt shaker on our dining room table. But Wendy also keeps one on her nightstand. And in her car. And another next to her computer. And one more by the telephone by the lamp in the living room. They blend right in to the surrounding decor and are handy when she needs them.

Which is any time we eat. I don't mean to imply we eat all the time. But we do eat daily. At least once. Usually more than once. We also don't limit our meals and snacking exclusively to the dining room. We eat wherever in our house we want. Because we no longer have children at home and therefore don't have to set a "good example". Freedom and all. (I revel, yet at times long for the past. I think that's normal. Whatever normal means.)

Oh! The look on her face as she shakes salt onto her food! The rapture! I can't really describe it... it's intense, it's gleeful.

Yes. Salt is important to Wendy. A regular joke between us is when she says to me "Suzanne**, I love you more than... more than... well, more than SALT!" I know exactly where I stand.

One year for Christmas, our friend Tina gave Wendy a Salt lick. A real honest to god chunk of Salt. About the size of my fist. Too funny. On another occasion, her birthday perhaps, a co-worker gifted her with a silver salt shaker, about 8" tall and 3" around, engraved with her name. So she'd always have her Salt handy at the office. Salt that would not get confused with anyone else's Salt. Plenty of Salt. Are you sensing a trend here? Seeing a pattern? Beginning to understand the passion involved? Okay, good.

I rarely thought about Wendy ever having to give up using so much salt. Even though it can have some health side-effects on many people. But her family seemed exempt. And so she shook on.

We are fairly healthy individuals. (I'm knocking on wood as I type those words. Really. I'll probably do it twice just to be safe.) We have some 'getting older' aches and pains, general life aches and pains, and the occasional cold. Allergies are our biggest complaint when there is complaining to do.

Earlier this year she started experiencing that "plugged up ear" feeling on a regular basis. You know the one, like when you are taking off in an airplane and gaining altitude. Or landing and losing altitude. It feels like your ears are stuffed with cotton so you chew a piece of gum or swallow and then they 'pop' and all is well. Except hers wouldn't pop. And she hadn't been on an airplane. How annoying. We initially blamed it on some type of allergy. Seemed reasonable at the time. Except even The Most Powerful Decongestants Known to Humankind didn't help at all. So, referral in hand, off she trooped to the ENT.

Where my polite lady-like mild-mannered girlfriend proceeded to blurt out "you've got to be shitting me!" when presented with the diagnosis and the initial 'treatment' plan. No magic pill to be taken. No waving of wands and chanting of chants as the mysterious workings of modern medicine restored her ears to the unplugged state for which she so yearned.

Nope. Instead, deprivation was prescribed. (I should really say further deprivation.)

Drum roll, please (because this is big and therefore worthy of one!): Wendy has been advised to eliminate caffeine and reduce her sodium intake to minimum. If she really wants her ears to unplug, that is.

Because giving up nicotine isn't hard enough?

Wendy came home and laughed saying "At least she didn't tell me I had to give up alcohol!" Amen to that.









** In actual real life moments, she might not be calling me Suzanne at all. She might be calling me by my last name. Which is something she does quite frequently. And for some strange reason, I like it. Even more than she likes Salt.

4 comments:

Melodee said...

I just have to know. Does she take her own salt shaker to the movies? I have a friend who does so she can resalt her popcorn when it's halfway gone. I laugh, yet always wish I had one in my purse when the popcorn is halfway gone.

Suzanne said...

We don't get out to the movies very often. And when we do, we usually just drain the salt container at the concession stand and shake the bag like madwomen in an attempt to evenly distribute it.

I think the "mid-bag re-salting" is a fabulous idea. Perhaps I should tuck a container of salt-substitute in my purse for the next occasion. :)

WenWhit said...

Your friend is a genius. :)

While I don't keep a salt shaker in my purse, I DO have one in my car. *sigh*

Marn said...

I LOVE the gift of the salt lick! That is just so funny! I've don't use much salt, but I've tried salt substitute in the past because my mother-in-law used it at her house. It tastes really flat. That is the best description that I can think of. Like something important is missing. I feel for anyone who has to use salt substitute. (Or decaf instead of a Starbuck's bold roast. (Cowgirl style - No cream or sugar.)