My Sweet Tooth
I sat down on the examination chair and leaned backwards, feeling the comfortable padding reshaping to fit around my back.
"Dr. Nguyen, you wouldn't believe the day I've had," I said with a chuckle. "We were out at the new solar farm, running the final grid connections. It's a beautiful setup, with new heliostat arrays. But the municipal bio-bees were acting up again. Seems like the electromagnetic fields from the high-voltage lines were affecting them. That reminded me of when I was a kid, growing up in the old suburbs. My grandma kept a hive in our backyard, bless her soul, and she'd always let me sneak a taste of the honey."
"Is that where your sweet tooth started?" Dr. Nguyen asked.
"Yeah I figure."
"Logan, you always have a story. It's good to see you keeping busy. Do you feel a lot of stress at work?"
"Not in particular. Work is growing great. Our new transmission line design is coming along. It's meant to cut down on maintenance significantly. It's about efficiency: clean energy, smart grids, and stuff like that."
She nodded and her cordial smile faded slightly.
"Well, Logan, your latest blood test results are in. They're not quite as efficient as your transmission lines."
I felt a knot tighten in your stomach.
"Your glucose levels are elevated, significantly so. Your cholesterol is also trending upwards. It's not catastrophic, but it's a clear warning sign. We need to make some changes."
"Changes?" I echoed, feeling a rising dread.
"Dietary changes primarily," she observed. "I know you have a fondness for sweets, but we need to drastically reduce your sugar intake."
She paused for a moment.
"Your blood work indicates a significant reliance on high sugar foods. It's not just the occasional treat, Logan. It's a consistent pattern. We need to address this."
The room seemed too small now, claustrophobic. The soft hum of the air purifier seemed to be screaming.
"But sweets are all I... I mean I've always enjoyed them."
"I understand, Logan, but your health has to be the priority. Let's talk about some dietary adjustments. We need to focus on whole foods like leafy greens and lean proteins. Rather than doing everything all at once, we can do a few simple swaps. Instead of sugary cereals for breakfast, how about some oatmeal with berries and nuts? Or a vegetable omelette?"
"Oats? Berries? That sounds bland," I grimaced. "Dr. Nguyen... Look, I appreciate this advice, but I can't do that. I enjoy the taste of sweetness! I enjoy my food!"
"There is a way you could experience the sweetness without the effects of actually ingesting excessive sugar," Dr. Nguyen remarked.
"What do you mean?" I raised my eyebrow.
She leaned forward.
"There's a relatively new technology, an electronic taste modulation device. It's usually shaped like a spoon. It uses low-level electrical currents to stimulate your taste receptors. These currents mimic the sensation of sweetness even if the food is sugar-free."
"Electricity on my tongue?" I wasn't feeling any better.
"Yes. The device uses targeted electrical stimulation to activate the same neural pathways that are activated by sugar molecules. It's based on the principles of electrogustatory stimulation, which is a long-established field of research. The device delivers a controlled, safe level of current directly to your taste buds, specifically the ones that respond to sweetness. The intensity can be adjusted depending on your interest."
"So it tricks my tongue into thinking anything is sweet?"
"Basically, yes. It'd be more accurate to say it's stimulating the perception of sweetness. The device doesn't introduce any external chemicals, just affects the electrical signals your taste buds send to your brain. Think of it the same way a cochlear implant stimulates hearing."
"That sounds unnatural," I pushed back. "I don't want to rely on some electronic gizmo to enjoy eating. I just want the real thing."
"Logan, the 'real thing' is hurting your health," Dr. Nguyen pushed back firmly. "This device is a lifeline to give you the sensation of sweetness without the negative consequences. It is a tool to help transition you to a healthier diet. Think of it as a temporary aid, and you can gradually reduce your reliance on it."
The townhouse felt unusually quiet that evening. Even the birds seemed to be quietly huddled in nests. My wife, Clara, had been remarkably patient throughout my whole health saga, but she was on the doctor's side. Tonight's dinner included a plate piled high with Brussels sprouts roasted in the oven. The little green marbles seemed to mock me and my sugar-deprived diet.
"I roasted them with a touch of balsamic and herbs," Clara said invitingly, her voice soft. "I got the recipe from Megan across the street. She wanted to pass along her hello."
I just stared at the pile of plants and then down at my empty plate.
"I know it's not your favorite, but they're actually quite good."
I met her cautious smile and with a long frown.
"I just want you to live a long time. I love you," Clara said softly, almost pleading.
I felt guilty. Of course she only wanted what was best for me, even if I didn't agree. I decided to take the electronic spoon out of my pocket. I had taken it from Dr. Nguyen only reluctantly. The spoon felt cold in my hand.
I took a deep breath and scooped one off the plate and into my mouth.
The first bite was surprising. The spoon's digital readout glowed softly, indicating it was set to a moderate sweetness level. The Brussels sprout exploded with a sugary rush that was a sharp contrast to the typical bitterness. It was a warm, caramel-like sweetness that complemented the earth flavor of vegetables. I chewed it happily, savoring the unexpected sensation.
"Well?" Clara asked with hope in her eyes.
"It's sweet," I confessed with a smile, a real smile. "Almost like caramelized onions."
Clara's face lit up.
"See? I told you, they're not bad!"
I took another bite, adjusting the spoon's sweetness downwards slightly. The flavor shifted, becoming a more nuanced blend of sweet and savory. It was a strange taste, but not entirely unpleasant. It was as if the spoon was unlocking hidden flavors.
"This is incredible. I never knew Brussels sprouts could taste like this," I was genuinely surprised.
"It must be the spoon," Clara said amusingly. "It's tricking your taste buds."
"Maybe," I conceded. "But it's a good trick. An enjoyable one."
I finished the plate and grabbed several more. The roasted Brussels sprouts tasted like a gourmet treat. The spoon seemed like culinary tool. It wasn't a dietary restriction, but a way to explore new flavors and enhance old ones.
Maybe, just maybe, I could find a balance between my sweet tooth and my health.