Organic veg: sticker shock, every time

I'm pouring out hundreds, thousands, on organic fruits and veg, all because of the idea that clean eating is necessary for someone fighting cancer.

 Actually, it's necessary for all of us. And I have had to overcome serious attitude problems with organic veg in order to do it. Francie pointed out to me the other day that I have, in the past, been seriously derisive of people who do all their shopping at the Co-op. "Nice for some," I'd say. I called people, "More organic than thou." I'd shake my head at how self-involved they are, how careful of their own bodies, while others who couldn't afford it made do with cheap, dirty food. Oh, how the righteously indignant have fallen.

I've mentioned this before on this blog, but haven't emphasized enough my current self-recrimination. I care about stuff when it affects me personally. Digression to illustrate: years ago, we had a Superintendent in our district (I serve on the RSU 3 school board) who alienated almost everyone. I defended her because she hadn't yet alienated ME. Then one night at a meeting she called me stupid. Not is so many words, but the implication was clear. I then got on the bandwagon; I didn't see it until it was pointed at me.

Maybe lots of people are like that, but it's a repeated pattern in my life. When Lindy was diagnosed with cancer, I looked into food issues big-time. David Servan-Schreiber said, eat organic. He explained why. And I complied. I got it, finally.

But what really cemented my commitment to organic food was this video of a talk given by Servan-Schreiber. He taught me how the food industry changed from the 1940s to the present, and how all the changes seemed to add cancer risk upon cancer risk. Not "seemed," actually. Did.

So it turns out all the "more organic than thou" people were trying to do is eat as though it was before 1940.

Still, every time I buy organic food, either at the Belfast Co-op, the Marsh River Co-op or at our local Hannafords which offers some selection of organic in every food aisle and has some choices of organic produce, my hair stands on end for a moment when cashing out. OUCH. THAT HURTS.

I met a friend at the Co-op once, in the produce section, who is also not overloaded with money, and I vented about the cost. He said, "You'll get used to it. You just don't notice after awhile." Well, it's been three months and I still notice.

I had a discussion with Lindy once, one of our typical clashes over our new regimen. "Can't I just eat normal food once in awhile?" What an opening! "What we regard as "normal" is the result of over 60 years of manipulation by the food industry and special interests like beef, corn and sugar. What's packed in our "normal" stores is dirty food. That's not normal. Organic is normal." Shut him up fast.

Actually, I'm not that dismissive. I'm trying very hard not to make light of Lindy's desire for "normalcy," which to him means, "life before taken over by this catastrophic disease." But it continues to clash with my own admittedly extreme measures to clean up our food and help his body fight back. We haven't reached a happy place there yet.

Further bulletins as events warrant...

Lisa