Most of you are probably wondering what the reference to "orange oily pooh" was about in the last blog article. Well, for those of you who know the story, sit tight, there is a purpose in my repeating the gory details for all to know.
Several months ago I purchased and fed my family some Orange Roughy fillets for dinner one night. The next morning, my oldest son came to be and announced that when he went to the bathroom, the end result was orange oily pooh. Because Samuel had already received the nickname, "dram," short for "drama," I dutifully ignored his presentation and went about my task wiping the remnants of last year's debris and dirt out of a silverware tray inside the drawer. Later that afternoon, he returned to announce that the orange oily pooh had struck again, and this time, quite unexpectedly, if you know what I mean. Well, this starting to alarm me and I did what any good mother would do. Ignore him, and when he wasn't looking, start Googling "orange oily pooh" at breakneck speed. At first I found nothing. But then I found a story some radio announcer put online about his experience.
The story began as he was taking a nap on his office floor and awoke to this nasty smell. He figured he passed a little gas while passed out and proceeded to use the copy machine. Here at the machine he smelled it again, and then again at the water cooler. Deciding the only common denominator was indeed himself, he hiked straight the bathroom, where much to his horror he had orange oily pooh that had already left an oil slick in his pants. Embarrassed, he went home and called his doctor who could not help him. He researched on the Internet to no avail, and then desperate to confirm that he was not in fact dying of some strange disease one oil slick at a time, told his entire listening audience the next day of his dilemma. One listener called in and suggested he'd eaten some type of fish found off the coast of China. After some research, the guy realized that he had in fact eaten this fish called Escolar, and that for a long period of time, the FDA had disallowed its import for fear of health complications. Turns out the unhealthy fish is not all that harmful (that didn't stop me from bathing Samuel in chlorophyll) but is often caught and passed off as other types of fish like Orange Roughy since it is a cheaper fish. It's still outlawed in Japan, by the way. Needless to say, I sped back up to Woodman's, swiped a package of "Orange Roughy" that to this day is still for sale there in a bin in the frozen seafood isle, and headed to the meat counter. After explaining to the butcher our experience with this fish, he looked at the back of the package and said, "Oh, yeah. That doesn't surprise me. It's from China. They'll do things like that!" He did give me my money back and pretty much acted like having orange oily pooh leaking out your caboose was no big deal and not all that abnormal.
Well, I wondered why Samuel was the only one of us who suffered from this malady, but then I remembered that Eli had not eaten dinner that night, and the rest of us because of Celiac Disease and/or occasional flatulence take digestive enzymes, which evidently helped our bodies process the nasty oil excreted from the Escolar more efficiently. It made me realize how important digestive enzymes are in a person's diet, no matter how healthy you eat. As we age, the enzymes our bodies make naturally decline in production. That is why Great Aunt Ethel was prone to tooting when she thought no one could hear it and eventually stopped being able to control it at all. What a gas! And people who are gluten intolerant especially have a need for extra enzymes in the diet. If you're interested in scoring some, let me know! You certainly don't want to be the butt of jokes when you walk out of the room!
This article in no way seeks to diagnose or treat any health problem.
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