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One person commented that fasting sounded scary when one is in such ill health. On the other hand, food sounds like an additional burden when the pain hits. Perhaps, I'll let my body decide when hunger signals should guide me. If sweet excites me, then I'm not hungry. If my daydreams involve a sizzling rib eye with a dark green side salad, I'll eat. Recently, I made it fifty-two hours on this formula.
Last night, sardines sounded good, so I ate the imported, wild caught, soaked in real olive oil kind. Reactions were mixed. The tummy felt good until The Monster gained a voice. I am not sure what that was about, but I'm better now.
Hospice called. My first visit is tomorrow.
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