Pork Chop Syndrome and Booklets

The author of the story below and his wife Dr. Andrea Brockman, are among my wonderful consulting clients. I pleaded with Dr. DiLorenzo ("Vinny" to those of us who know and love him) to write this up once he told it to me during a consulting session. They have written a series of booklets based on holistic dentistry. http://www.takethebite.com Think about how you view your booklets and marketing and anything else in your life as you read the story. In the meantime, thanks for sharing this, Vinny!

“Pork Chop Syndrome”

By Dr. Vincent DiLorenzo

I had always liked eating pork chops. I did until I became kosher that is. But pork chops have taken on different meaning for me besides the “other white meat” label.

It all began when I was a kid. My mom occasionally would create this magnificent pork chop dinner for the whole family. Pork chops…Uggh! I don’t want pork chops, I would whine.

She would “Shake and Bake” them. You know where you toss them into this plastic bag complete with all the crumbs and seasonings and shake it all up. Then she would bake them with loving care. The house was now filled with the sweet aroma of baked pork chops to which I found to be exceptionally pleasing to my very sensitive olfactory bulb apparatus.

My father, brother and sister anticipated the sumptuous pork chop dinner to come. I, on the other hand, no matter how good this smelled, was not going to go near them. Why? I have no idea. All the time before we sat down to dinner I had knots in my stomach and found myself in a deep state of panic. There was no way I was going to eat those silly little chops.

Finally the meal was served and staring out at me were those shaked and baked chops. I looked down at my plate and right there and then I realized that I was going to be very hungry that night. I went so far as to put them under my plate so my mom would have thought that I had eaten them already. As if she wouldn’t notice. “Eat your pork chops” my impatient father screamed.

Well, with eyes closed, I picked up one little chop and took my first bite with great trepidation. “Wow, mom, these are great! Can I have some more?”

You would now logically think that pork chops would be replacing pasta as my all time favorite food. I would be hooked on pork chops forever. Not! Would you believe that as the years went on and each time my mother would make those pork chops, I would go through the same silly ritual? But each time I ate them, I loved them. Pretty crazy, huh?

So what does this have to do with what is going on in my life right now? Why talk about pork chops and my nutty little quirks? Well, believe or not, I have come to the realization that I had been afflicted with what is known as the “Pork Chop Syndrome”. You won’t find this disease in any medical dictionary or written about in any scientific journal. But, believe me, it is quite real. However in my case it comes with a little twist.

I’ll describe the symptoms as follows: When I am asked to do something that is a little out of my comfort zone that darn ritual shows its ugly head. “I don’t want to go to that party” or “I am not going to like that movie” or “I don’t want to go out to dinner with them”, I will whine. Those disturbing knots, deep in the pit of my stomach, astonishingly reappear, the way they did during the early pork chop years. I then practice the art of avoidance, like putting the pork chops under my plate so I won’t see them. However, when I go to that party or see that movie or go out to dinner, I love it! Go figure.

You would think that as time went on, I would have learned from these experiences, allowing myself to become more open and my symptoms would disappear. But nobody told me about the menacing nature of this syndrome. It seemed like it would always raise its ugly little head again… and again…and again. You get the picture.

So what could I do? The first thing was to admit that I had this illness. I needed to confront the enemy within that was keeping me from experiencing life’s joys. I realized that I did not want to become imprisoned or be enslaved to the “Pork Chop Syndrome” anymore. So I fought back.

I went out and got help. My wife, who received the brunt of the disease’s effects, would patiently and gently urge me to “get over it”. Constantly forcing me into new situations and face this devil. I sought out the advice of psychologists, self help books, meditation, energetic healers, my rabbi and a host of others. I went deep inside myself to find the cure.

I got better. I began opening up to new ideas. I mentally prepare myself every day now to fight my illness and it seems to be working. I don’t get those annoying knots in my stomach any more. I became a better person. I was on the road to recovery. I was getting over my Pork Chop Syndrome. Not totally, but well on my way.

What bit of advice can I impart onto all of you who suffer, like I do, from the nasty effects of this insidious affliction? After all, Pork Chop Syndrome may be more prevalent than we think. Perhaps you are among the unfortunate. Look around you and let those loved ones so afflicted know that there is hope. Let them know you care. Let them be comforted in the idea that it really is OK to eat those pork chops. As long as you are not kosher, that is.

====

Until next time,

Paulette -- who will one day soon tell you her cabbage leaves story

www.tipsbooklets.com