Lucky Number Seven

Several years ago, I decided to redefine my definition of healthy. With the help of Google and Borders Bookstore, I went from a self-described normal eater to an impossible-to-take-anywhere diner. I had somehow convinced myself that almost all of the food I had ever consumed prior to my new discovery of health was poison. This included all dairy products, all white-based products, meat, wheat, baked or fried goods, and anything non-organic. The published community informed me that my body was a toxic mess, and I had to repair the damage of irresponsible consumption over the last twenty-two years.

I learned all about soy and its scarily remarkable ability to disguise itself as milk, yogurt, cheese of all kinds, cool whip, ice cream, coffee creamer, meat, candles, bathroom cleaner, and undoubtedly the Statue of Liberty. I learned why raw foods are better than cooked foods, and I experimented with juicing. I even switched all of my personal hygiene products to organic, all natural, death-free options. Needless to say, the natural-health food stores happily welcomed this newly acquired definition of health I had so hastily convinced myself was the only way to live.

In addition to learning about food and personal product choices, I learned about cleansing exercises and rituals, the impact of stress on the body, and other “healthy” tips of the trade. One item of emphasis was hydration. Apparently, a person should consume half of his or her body weight of water, in ounces, each day. This is supposedly the amount of water required to keep the body appropriately hydrated, as well as aid with the removal of toxins from the body. From that day forward, my Nalgene bottle has been within reach.

While I no longer define healthy in this way, I have held on to some of the knowledge I gained during my Wikipedia-equivalent doctoral research on health. I still buy organic processed food and shampoo and prefer whole grains to half, but I also actively purchase Ben & Jerry’s ice cream for regular consumption and Sara Lee’s pound cake for an exquisite strawberry shortcake creation. I also still drink from my Number-Seven-Plastic Nalgene bottle every day. I am not at all concerned about the recent warnings surrounding Plastic Number 7, and I have yet to understand why. After all of the alterations I have made to take better care of my body, you would think this highly advertised danger would cause more of a reaction. Is it accurate to state that I am in disbelief of this research? Do I not mind if I am infertile as a result of my daily use of Plastic Number 7? Do I no longer care for my body as much as I once did? Is the Nalgene bottle such a great product that I believe the rewards outweigh the costs? Am I willing to die for my Nalgene bottle?! I guess I’m hoping the message in the bottle was misread.