It’s been a good day.
Midday I managed to eat a whole bacon rasher, and it didn’t hurt at all. I grilled it till it was cooked but not crisp, and it hardly hurt at all.
Then I ate three whole tea-spoonfuls of apple crumble. And tonight I had two helpings of mince with veg.
The secret is to avoid potatoes and bread, which seem to be lethal for some reason, and chew everything into small pieces before swallowing (sorry if that was too much information).
It felt all the better because I was really getting depressed at having to eat soup and noodles with everything. It’s a small victory, but that’s what I needed.
It was the same when I was first in hospital 40 years ago. All week I was tied down to a bed with pulleys on my leg to hold the broken bits straight. But once a week we got taken down to X-ray. And on the way to X-ray we went past a gap in the wall of the hospital corridor, and in the courtyard you could see a tree, a real tree, for oh two or even three seconds. A small victory, but it felt so good. And on the way back I could see the tree again. It was a reminder of the outside world, and a promise that I would walk again. And I did.
This time my victory wasn’t a tree, it was a plate of minced beef. But God willing, it’s a promise that I will eat a proper meal someday.