Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

I just talked to my surgeon, and explained that the discharge nurse had given me instructions for a low-fat diet, of which I remembered only that oatmeal was good and ice cream was bad, and this seemed a bit vague, and was there more he could tell me. He said something vague but disparaging about people telling people who had had gall-bladder surgery that they needed a low-fat diet, and then, explicitly, "Eat what you want." I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to do now, but it's nice to know that if, say, lamb seems more likely to taste right than yet another chicken dish, I should have the lamb.

ETA: In the meantime, I am assuming that the other advice—no heavy lifting, don't go back to the gym until after I see the doctor and get his advice, and no baths or swimming, only showers—is reasonable. But those don't complicate my life, and cattitude's, in the same way.