Once upon a time there was a silly little woman who had some of her body parts cut out and then was sewn back together. In spite of previous experience, the silly little woman believed that recovery should be short and easy, because, after all, she had better things to do than sit around the house and nurse her wounds.
So one day, just a few weeks after the procedure, the woman made plans to meet a favorite friend for lunch. The woman planned carefully, because she knew that her body was not fully adjusted to her usual culinary delights. She thought it would be smart to meet at a casual deli where she could order a simple baked potato and her friend could enjoy the best iced tea in town.
The appointed day arrived, and the woman with the scar on her belly was excited! Not only would she get to leave her house, but she was going to drive a car! And have girl talk! And wear makeup! The birds chirped happily outside her window while she lovingly bid her three small cowboys farewell. She felt a moment of sadness that they couldn't share in her big day, but alas, they had to go out into the world and conquer elementary school.
The woman with the scar on her belly was finally satisfied that she looked presentable. She cheerfully drove to the restaurant and greeted her friend with a big hug. They went inside the restaurant, and the woman marveled at how light and bright everything looked. After weeks within the four walls of her own home, the outside world appeared bigger and more beautiful than ever! When it was time to order, she was tempted by the best sweet tea the town had to offer, but took the high road and stuck to her plan: a baked potato and a glass of water.
Well, the two friends had a marvelous time. They laughed and swapped stories and cried, and then laughed a whole lot more. As the woman believed the simple baked potato was nourishing her broken body, the fellowship was also nourishing her soul. As she talked with her friend, the woman felt satisfied--even a little proud--that she had accomplished their little luncheon. "Take THAT, you $%&*! cancer!", she thought.
The thought had just popped into her head when it was interrupted by strange noises. The noises started soft and slow, but they quickly grew louder and more intense. The woman didn't even have time to look around the restaurant before she knew that those noises were coming from her. It was her post-operative stomach, expressing its apparent distaste for the lunch the little woman had so proudly fed it.
The woman with the scar on her belly suspected that her day was about to take a downhill turn. She quickly hugged her friend, promised a "next time", and jumped in her car. Thankfully, she was not too far from home, but each rumble from her stomach seemed to stretch the route. She came to a screeching halt in her driveway, and made it inside in just enough time for the baked potato to be disposed of. More than once. And then the toast she'd had for breakfast. And all of the food she had consumed in the previous days and weeks. All gone.
After more than an hour, the woman lay on her empty, scarred-up belly, spent. Every part of her ached. She silently cursed the humble potato for acting so innocent when really it was setting a trap for hungry people with digestive issues. She cursed herself for foolishly believing in the potato.
Suddenly, the woman heard a noise! It seemed to echo throughout the too-quiet house. Could it be...? YES! It was the sound of a door opening. And footsteps. Someone was in the house with her! Before the woman could think what to do, a pair of shoes met her at eye-level. The woman looked up and was relieved to see that the legs in those (cute) shoes belonged to her mother. She was saved! As her little mother sank to the floor next to her, the woman with the scar on her belly managed to croak, "It's not as bad as it looks." Even though it was.
From that day on, the woman was terrified of food and only ate white rice.