Like many, I tend to avoid doctor visits until I'm at death's door. A month ago, that was my reality.
The week prior, my fiancee and I indulged in a cheese binge, which unsurprisingly left me feeling backed up. Then, a weekend outing led to consuming a dish that didn't sit well, accompanied by a night of drinking. The next day, I felt awful. My stomach churned, bloating ensued, and soon, a fever gripped me for three relentless days.
Finally resorting to Miralax, I sought medical help as my fever persisted. Vitals were checked, blood drawn, and an ultrasound of my abdomen scheduled.
Results confirmed a battle within me. Antibiotics were prescribed, targeting what my doctor suspected was a sinus infection exacerbating my belly woes.
The ultrasound revealed a fatty liver, no surprise given my increased alcohol intake post-divorce. I had shifted from hard liquor to wine for its reputed health benefits, then to beer for its affordability upon starting my current relationship. Unfortunately, beer's caloric payload left me bloated despite regular exercise.
Ahead of my gastroenterologist appointment, I preemptively decided to halt daily drinking, a routine I'd fallen into. Two weeks sober, I savored my first beer with friends, noticing nuanced flavors once obscured by habit.
It's easy to overlook alcohol's impact until it manifests in our health. My ordeal was a stark reminder: heavy drinking exacts a toll.
No comments:
Post a Comment