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Ellen's Doctor (looking over a lab printout): Ellen, have you been feeling lately like you are mildly retarded, inexplicably irritable, boring and unadventuresome, generally uninspired and not your exciting self, and like you have the memory capacity of a goldfish?
Ellen: Actually, that pretty much sums up the past few weeks, maybe a couple of months. Why?
Doctor: I think your medications are eating your body. Either that, or you could be drinking too much water.
Okay. Okay. What? Too much water? Too much water?!? I know you hear about the dangers of hyponatremia in athletes and all, but too much water? How many times do you hear on TV or in chick magazines or whatever that you should drink at least 8 glasses of water a day, if not more? And how about all those people walking around with their Evian or pseudo-hippie bunny-killing Nalgene bottles sucking on their own personal hydroponic titty all the damn time? None of them seem to be showing up on the news as the tragic victims of this modern cult of hydration. I also drink a massive amount of coffee, which is a diuretic, and have a daily sodium intake sufficient to annihilate the entire AARP. Systolic blood pressure jumps ten points just watching me put salt on my french fries. To top it off, I spend large chunks of my day sitting in the sun, running, having sex, laying about in my non-air-conditioned apartment, and generally engaging in activities that cause me to sweat like a pre-surgical Al Roker under the bright lights.
All in all, it seems to balance out. I drink about 2-3 liters of water a day, plus whatever liquid is in my coffee (I shy away other drinks, except soda sometimes). It's higher than recommended intake, but that's as it should be, considering recommended intake is for your average decaffeinated low-sodium-dieting office sloth. I mean, I'm no medical professional, but doesn't that logic make sense?
Let's cut back to the scene for just a moment:
Ellen's doctor: In any event, I'm not comfortable making any major decisions until I've consulted with a medical doctor.
Ellen: (Glances up at wall displaying a framed degree reading "Medical Doctor"; makes mental note to find new doctor)
And... scene.
If you find me laying on the side of Blackstone Boulevard, stone-dead of dehydration, my dessicated corpse shriveled tighter than a raisin, please tell my parents to sue the ever-living shit out of my doctor.
Ellen: Actually, that pretty much sums up the past few weeks, maybe a couple of months. Why?
Doctor: I think your medications are eating your body. Either that, or you could be drinking too much water.
Okay. Okay. What? Too much water? Too much water?!? I know you hear about the dangers of hyponatremia in athletes and all, but too much water? How many times do you hear on TV or in chick magazines or whatever that you should drink at least 8 glasses of water a day, if not more? And how about all those people walking around with their Evian or pseudo-hippie bunny-killing Nalgene bottles sucking on their own personal hydroponic titty all the damn time? None of them seem to be showing up on the news as the tragic victims of this modern cult of hydration. I also drink a massive amount of coffee, which is a diuretic, and have a daily sodium intake sufficient to annihilate the entire AARP. Systolic blood pressure jumps ten points just watching me put salt on my french fries. To top it off, I spend large chunks of my day sitting in the sun, running, having sex, laying about in my non-air-conditioned apartment, and generally engaging in activities that cause me to sweat like a pre-surgical Al Roker under the bright lights.
All in all, it seems to balance out. I drink about 2-3 liters of water a day, plus whatever liquid is in my coffee (I shy away other drinks, except soda sometimes). It's higher than recommended intake, but that's as it should be, considering recommended intake is for your average decaffeinated low-sodium-dieting office sloth. I mean, I'm no medical professional, but doesn't that logic make sense?
Let's cut back to the scene for just a moment:
Ellen's doctor: In any event, I'm not comfortable making any major decisions until I've consulted with a medical doctor.
Ellen: (Glances up at wall displaying a framed degree reading "Medical Doctor"; makes mental note to find new doctor)
And... scene.
If you find me laying on the side of Blackstone Boulevard, stone-dead of dehydration, my dessicated corpse shriveled tighter than a raisin, please tell my parents to sue the ever-living shit out of my doctor.