In Which I Discover The Extent Of My Lactose Intolerance … In Germany
Apparently, my mild dairy aversion has become full-blown lactose intolerance. I’ve never been particularly fond of milk but unlike my mother (from whom I inherited this condition), I drank it periodically and in small amounts, which helped keep my digestive system under control. Thus, I never realized 1) the extent to which my resilience could deteriorate or 2) how absolutely terrible one could feel if one ate, say, large amounts of unpasteurized cheese in short periods of time. I’ll spare you the gastrointestinal details but suffice it to say that Germany is really the last place I should be right now.
This situation must be rectified as soon as I return to the States. I have high hopes that I will one day be able to eat cheese without fear of labor-like cramping.
P.S. I’m blogging from Nuremberg, a stop en route to Berlin, where I am spending New Year’s.
