a branch of medicine

A friend of mine proposed, last night while eating pulled pork for dinner, that pork may be responsible for bad dreams. Or perhaps it was this particular pig; he had the whole pig in his freezer and had been eating a lot of it lately. Perhaps it was the way it was raised, he thought—but then it was not so badly raised. A little cooped up maybe.

Well, I had bad dreams. Woke up with my head in a rush and my belly in a knot, went down stairs to bake bread and drink coffee and write, a little before four this morning. I don’t blame the pig particularly, though I allow the possibility, but rather the plentiful eating of rich food at a late hour followed by indolence and then sleep. The effect was, after all, entirely predictable.

I am in fact entirely ruled by my stomach. I was a lost man, and deeply suffered, before I was found, and well fed, and eventually married. It was, to be certain, a little embarrassing. To see all that anguish evaporate. My whole portfolio if you will—my case study, my personal history—in the face of a few decent regular meals a day. Really. I’d thought I was doomed.

So saved, and capable again of reasoned action, and of subtle study, I have dedicated a considerable amount of my time to fine tuning my digestion. Yes! like an old man in a novel, I know. I never eat this before noon, and never that after eight—the other not at all, not since whenever. It is an absorbing study. It is, or ought to be, I believe, a branch of medicine.

3 Comments on “a branch of medicine”

  1. d alexander p says:

    Writing from the land of pork and wine and bad dreams myself, i have undertaken a study of intemperance and noted that there is indeed a correlation between a daily ration of cured belly, prosciuto crudo, loin chop with rosemary, a bottle or two of bardolino and the production of dreams referencing casual anxieties of the day. But what I had not expected was that bacala vicentina con pollenta (the famous salt cod of the region- which really is unnecessary given the advent of refrigeration and the dish’s otherwise unappealing characteristics) resulted in far more dire dreams of giant owls and certain women we both know, overburdened horses, and feral children unable to cloth themselves. I will not insist upon the establishment of any branch of medicine based upon this experience, but I will venture that fish produce worse dreams because they lack manners and any sense of sexual intrigue. Neither of which
    either of us
    could ever be
    accused of.

  2. RBCHH says:

    I heart you DFP.

  3. Ed says:

    Wow. Post and comment are wholly satisfying.

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