Crohn's Medicine

It's been a while since I've posted memories of my dad, and since I've had a number of them recently, I thought I'd give them their own post.

One of the ailments my dad suffered from was Crohn's Disease. (Don't click the link if it's lunchtime.) He once read an article about a guy who claimed eating two coconut macaroons a day helped his Crohn's. My dad, being the logical guy that he was, concluded that if coconut macaroons helped, then surely Mounds candy bars would do the same. Often after church, when stopping to pick up a newspaper, he'd grab a Mounds bar or two, claiming he needed to keep up with his Crohn's medicine. Lucky for Mom and I, he'd regularly share, being concerned for our preventative care.

Tonight I was in desperate need of some chocolate, and a package of miniature Mounds bars called out to me. I guess I just needed some Crohn's medicine.

I found a short article online that addresses this coconut theory. My favorite paragraph reads:

At the current time, the theory of coconut macaroons helping Crohn's disease is just a theory. It is what I call a "well, why not" theory. This means, if you have Crohn's disease, you are allowed to try regular food and you like macaroons, why not eat two. If it helps, good for you. Just don't announce you have found the cure, as some individuals may abandon necessary medications for a cookie.

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I'm a total sucker for product placement. Once, when Brenda and I were watching TV together, a commercial came on for Fruity Pebbles, and we couldn't rest until we had some.

Recently there's been a commercial on TV for a Lifetime Original Movie, and for about two seconds during the commercial, it shows a lady drinking a bloody mary. Ever since the first time I saw the commercial, I've been craving tomato juice. I don't want or need the vodka, just the tomato juice.

My dad loved tomato juice. He'd drink it straight, or have Mom heat it up and mix it with some cooked pasta. It was almost as regular of a staple around the house as peanut butter. Isn't it funny how something as simple as tomato juice reminds me of my dad?

Anyway, I picked some up at the store during my chocolate run. It should be cold by now.

(I also bought some grapefruit juice. My mom always bought the kind with Donald Duck on the can, but I couldn't find that kind at the store. I probably wouldn't ever have tried grapefruit juice if it wasn't for my dad, either.)

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I don't know if it's my ears or if it's my TV, but something's been going crazy lately. I keep turning my TV volume up and up so I can hear the stupid thing. And then, as you well know, during the commercials it's about six times louder, so I have to turn it down again. Sometimes it amazes me how loud I actually have it.

When I was a kid, some kids on the street next to ours introduced my brother and me to an older lady named Mrs. Ford on their street. She was an extremely interesting woman with a jungle in her living room and a number of amazing stories to tell.

I remember very distinctly sitting in the family room of our house watching TV with my brother one night when Dad walked in and yelled for us to turn the TV down. "Mrs. Ford doesn't need to hear it!" was one of the phrases he used. Every time I turn my TV down lately, I hear those words. It's kind of funny, now.