Thank goodness for heartburn

The last six months had been trying. No matter what I did I was gaining weight, and for the first time ever, I was developing quite a belly. So, first things first, I joined a gym and started working on my eating (and drinking)habits. You have to know I love wine. Especially red wine. Though on occasion give me a good Viognier or Sauvignon Blanc and I’m happy, particularly on a warm summer day. Having lived in Northern California for 20 years and after several classes at Culinary Institute of America in Napa, I have a strong affinity for Napa Cabernets. Yes, those big fruit bombs— lush, mouth filling, heady dark Cabs. But I’m expanding my palate. After a trip to Priorat near Barcelona, I fell in love with the Granaches and Carmenieres of that area. One can literally taste the granite in which the vines grow. But I digress. I cleaned up my eating,cut way back on wine and started working out at a gym. and all the while, the weight kept going up. I even went to my primary care doc, and she attributed it to age. I did just turn 65 and conventional wisdom is, the older we get the harder it is to lose weight. But then, in December, heartburn struck. I used to suffer mightily from reflux, but had surgery to correct it, so this new heartburn was unacceptable. After five years, had my surgery failed? What was going on? Fortunately a Johns Hopkins gastroenterologist had a cancellation the following day, so I made haste to see her. I described my symptoms and told her maybe the bloating in my stomach was gas. She felt my stomach and asked me if I was tensing my muscles. I said no, and she said, this isn’t gas and I want you to have a CT scan immediately. She got on the phone and got me scheduled the next day. It wasn’t gas, and I wasn’t gaining weight from overeating. I had three cysts— one quite large and attached to an ovary. Not the answering I was hoping for, but an answer. Next up was an appointment with a gynecological oncologist. Again, I lucked out with a cancellation and was seen a couple days later by Dr. T. He was young and confident, and I immediately liked him. He was optimistic as well. He was close to certain surgery would “get it all,” and we scheduled for right after the new year. I felt confident and optimistic as well. For the time being. I watched the New Year’s Eve fireworks over the harbor, knowing that in just a few days, I would be rid of this mess and could move on. Oh, if life could be that simple.

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