The most frightening possible discovery I could have imagined just popped up in my consciousness. I might be allergic to milk.
You see, milk is my air. Milk is my liquid love. I could only have it and give up every other drink and I would be one giddy fish.
But I was lactose intollerant for a year. When I was about 10 I discovered that nothing sat right. My life as a milk addict could have been over. Instead, it took a break for a year. Perhaps ten years of milk had “done me in” and now that it’s been a decade later, my tummy might be done with it again. No! I need my milk! I need my white delight. *sigh*