Equal vs. Splenda

Entering week three of the sugar fast. Absolutely no refined sugar of any sort. As a matter of self-discipline, I've also elected to cut out honey, fruit, pasta, rice and as much white flour as possible with the exception of a couple Tap Room pretzel sticks.

When people ask me about the fast, their responses could just as well be on continuous loop. "Don't you just feel so much better?" It's an easy answer. No. I do not feel better. I feel like I want to walk into MacArthur's bakery and take a birthday-cake-buying hostage until the entire staff hand feeds me strawberry layer torte with whipped cream.

I'd like to thank the crew at Hartford Coffee (a few readers here, to be sure) for lying straight to my face when I ask how the freshly baked cookies taste. They've become really creative and believable with comments like, "There's a weird aftertaste. Probably too much baking soda."

My appreciation also goes out to my frequent dining partners who, largely without complaint, keep going back to the same restaurants with agreeable menus and willingly eat the same meals I cook for myself. The support is priceless.

My goal is to be sugar free until 1 July.

Beginning 2 July, you may send cards, flowers and balloons directly to my room at Barnes-Jewish hospital. Visiting would be a wasted effort as medical research hasn't conclusively determined the level of awareness in hyperglycemic, comatose patients.

But when I come around, I'll know you were thinking of me. How sweet!