Jody Smith finds that even with ME/CFS, new life as symbolized by the mighty egg, can still spring forth …
The egg has been a symbol of new life since ancient times. Recently, this symbolism has struck home for me in my own life.
I’ve eaten a lot of eggs in my life. Particularly in my vegetarian years, I leaned heavily on eggs. Fried, boiled, on their own and in omelets … And I confess in retrospect that I took them for granted. They were a mainstay that I perhaps didn’t fully appreciate till I could no longer eat them.
In February of 2012 I was vaguely aware of a queasiness that didn’t go away, which over a few more days turned into sharp pain in my stomach that also didn’t go away.
When I tried to figure out what was going on I was dismayed to conclude that this could be the result of eating eggs. To test this theory I reluctantly stopped eating eggs and found that this new digestive assault disappeared.
So that was that. As far as I was concerned, ME/CFS had just successfully chipped off another piece of my life.
When I learned about leaky gut syndrome, it seemed that I was experiencing an autoimmune symptom. I mourned this new loss, and the thought that I might never be able to eat eggs again for the rest of my life.
Every couple of years I’d give them a try but every time I tried this experiment I regretted it. Queasy before I even finished breakfast. And the stomach pain would shortly follow.
Depressing. And strange, since I’d been fine with eggs until I was 46 years old.
This moratorium continued until about a month ago when I tried my egg experiment once more. But this time, for some reason, things were different. No queasiness. No pain. No unpleasant repercussions. I was amazed, and tentatively ecstatic.
The next day I threw caution to the winds and fried up some more eggs. No problems. Just happiness.
My naturopath Kelly Upcott was pleased for me as well, and encouraged that it sounded like there had been some substantial healing going on. She suggested though that I be cautious for awhile, and not have them every day. No reason to risk stressing my body in its new ability to tolerate eggs.
So I’m keeping it down to a few times a week. But I’m optimistic that I’ve turned yet one more corner in the reclaiming of my health. And I’m enjoying the thought of scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, omelets and eggs sunny-side up smiling at me from my plate in the mornings.
A few weeks ago, my husband Alan’s buddy Bob told us about a place in our town that sells eggs from free-range chickens.
The difference between these babies and eggs from the grocery store was noticeable as soon as I opened the carton. They were dark brown, and light brown and they were bigger.
While I know that brown eggs are not necessarily healthier than white ones, once I cracked one open into the frying pan, I could see that they were indeed something different. The yolks were a deep orangey shade of yellow, and they had a marvelous stickiness when the yolks were penetrated by a fork.
No more pale yellow eggs from the grocery store. The free-range eggs were a little more expensive but since they were also bigger than the grocery store variety they were worth the extra few cents.
My understanding is that free-range eggs may well contain omega-3 essential fatty acids rather than omega-6, and that’s something else I’m shooting for. It’s the reason I take fish oil every day, and if I can get omega-3s from more sources, so much the better.
They say the proof is in the eating, and more than the difference in appearance, the difference in the eating experience convinced me. These eggs felt more substantial under my fork, the yolk was stickier and had a tendency to cling to the tines and to my plate. And the taste reminded me of eggs from my childhood.
Now these were eggs!
This morning we ran out of our supply of free range, and had to finish off our last dozen of the store-bought. I looked at the last free range egg sitting in my frying pan next to a store egg, and noticed the sorry contrast between them. The free-range yolk and white looked more substantial compared to the light anemic-looking yolk and watery white lying next to it.
I am wondering if eating these eggs will help me to avoid the risk of again finding myself intolerant of eggs. Tiime will tell I guess.
In the meantime, I’m looking forward to eggs for breakfast tomorrow morning and I’m optimistic that I’ll be able to do so for the rest of my life.
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