Nuts!

Because of stomach problems I’d been experiencing, my doctor advised me to avoid fiber in general and nuts in particular. I tried to follow his instructions, but after two weeks I again visited his office and reported very little change in my condition.

Puzzled, the doctor questioned whether I’d followed his prescribed diet and I assured him that I had. He then asked me to lie down so he could examine my abdomen.

He had barely begun his examination when he stopped abruptly, leaned in at nose length from my belly and stared it.

“What’s this?” he questioned. “Are you sure you’ve been following my instructions?”

“Why?” I shot back at him. “What do you see?”

I stopped breathing and terror radiated through my body. It was quite obvious from the doctor’s tone and facial expression that whatever he had detected was serious.

He leaned over and stuck his thumb and forefinger into my navel. “This,” he said, as he pulled out a pignolia nut.

I was mortified, dumbfounded and unable to think of a single reasonable response. Only seconds before I had looked him in the eye and said I’d followed his instructions.

“It’s a miracle!” I rebounded.

I hoped he would attach some medical significance to it like, while cases like this are not common, they are by no means unusual, but he didn’t. So I was left to further bury myself by offering, “I can’t imagine where that thing came from.” Duh! So much for personal hygine.

I could have joked and said that I intentionally placed it there as a snack for later, or I could have even explained what probably happened. But, instead I just laid there, praying that if I said nothing more about it, the incident would be forgotten, and silently realizing that one day this entire experience might be thought of by some, as amusing – maybe even by me.

The truth was that I had been rushing to leave the house that morning and had not had time to eat breakfast. The last thing I spotted before leaving was a plastic container of pignolia nuts on the kitchen counter that I planned on using in a recipe that afternoon. Momentarily forgetting my doctor’s warning against eating nuts I, impulsively, grabbed a handful and scoffed them down. I was wearing a dress with a tight elastic waist band. Somehow the scheming little nut managed to slip into the neck of my dress, slide down, down, down, past the dress’s waist band, past my underwear’s waist band, and come to rest in my navel. Just how it did that shall remain a mystery.

In the midst of my humiliation the doctor’s assistant walked in. “Do you mind if I tell her what just happened?” he asked me with a wide grin, and not waiting for my response. “She’s sworn to secrecy.”

Yeah, right, I thought. I can guarantee that even before I leave this office your entire staff and your Wednesday golf buddies will know about the squirrelly lady who stores nuts in her navel.

The doctor related the story to his assistant and she laughed — too hard — after which he gave me a prescription and instructions for the coming week. I don’t recall all that he said because it’s difficult for to focus when you’re the only one in the room wearing nothing but underwear. All I knew was that, gratefully, no further reference was made to the incident.

At the close of my visit, when I entered the outer office, the entire staff of seven women looked at me and smiled — in unison.

I wondered what his golf buddies were saying about it.