Does He Really Need that "Doughnut Fix" Today?

For the last 3 years, I have nagged my husband about his morning doughnut habit. According to him, no day is complete until he picks up the newspaper, drives 6 miles to his favorite doughnut shop, and consumes 2 greasy doughnuts while he brings himself up to date on the ulcer-causing news on the front page of the paper.

I can't count the times he has moaned about his need to lose a few pounds, and how, during the recent crisis that raised the price of gasoline to almost $4 a gallon in our neighborhood, he has almost, but not quite, decided to swear off doughnuts for a while.

Occasionally, he meets a friend at the doughnut shop and decides just one more won't hurt. After all, he seldom eats the big fat frosted kind. Nope-he is a doughnut purist. Two plain cake doughnuts every morning, including Sundays.

Recently, even more pounds have been creeping onto his frame, and now and then, a bit of a queasy stomach by the time he gets back home has begun to bother him. Mind you-I'm not the type to say, "I told you so," but I suspect he knows I'm thinking it.

Several weeks ago, just 30 minutes after leaving the doughnut shop, my husband suffered severe pains he described as being in the area of his gall bladder. He blamed it on the Pizza he had gulped down at 11:30 the night before. That sounded plausible to me so I accepted his theory.

Being the stubborn type who believes that doctors are only for those who are being born or in danger of dying, he refused to make an appointment with his doctor and outlasted the pain. Believe me, if I were in half the pain he seemed to be in, I would have been on my way to the hospital in the back of an ambulance.

The next morning, and for the six days after that, Hubby was back in his usual place at the doughnut shop, acting as though all was right with the world as he gobbled down his usual 2 doughnuts and drank his black coffee with two spoonfuls of sugar. Until the 7th morning.

That day, the trip to the doughnut shop came to an early end. Within an hour my husband was home complaining that his stomach was so bloated he could hardly breathe, and it really, really hurt. Four antacid pills and a few gulps of Pepto- Bismol later, the attack was so severe that a ride in the ambulance was even looking good to him. Then, gradually, the pain subsided.

I held my tongue, but, wonder of wonders, my better half opined that just maybe those doughnuts weren't doing him a lot of good. We discussed it, wondering if, perhaps, the financial problems which are hitting the doughnut shop, along with most of the other small businesses in our town, had caused them to re-use the oil used for deep frying the doughnuts once too often. My husband said he had noticed a little different taste in the doughnuts recently, and wondered if maybe the oil had actually become rancid.

Being a caring wife and realizing how much his morning doughnut fix meant to him, I suggested that he shop around for another doughnut shop to try. He said he would give it some thought, but when he went to make a bank deposit for me that afternoon, guess what? He came back with a half gallon of low-fat milk and a box of cornflakes for his breakfast the next day.

So far, no more stomach problems. He is wolfing down those cornflakes like they were a gourmet meal. Time enough for me to convince him that he could find a healthier cereal than corn flakes. Maybe even a hot cereal. I'm just tickled pink that doughnuts are out of his life.

A word to the wise: If you are in the habit of stopping by a doughnut shop, at any time of the day, you might want to take notice to see if that stop results in an upset stomach-even a mild one. No matter how good those deep fried doughnuts taste, if they are working against your good health, they aren't really worth it.