All those snacks the other day (previous post) started another wave of food longing, dammit. For those who've just tuned in, I cannot eat or drink at all the regular way, instead using a marvellous tube directly through my abdomen wall into my stomach.
Most every day, I am completely fine with it. I shared lunch wth my wife yesterday, which is unusual as we typically eat at different times, but I was due for a feed (which I do 5 times a day fairly clockwork-ish) and she had soup and rolls ready so we sat and dined together. Well, she dined, I tubed my homemade blend of stuff. It was lovely, but along with a few other things kicked me back into eating grief.
I have realised I may never quite get over it, you know. Meeta has compared it to losing a limb, and there's a lot in that thought. Unlike quitting say, smoking - which was not exactly easy I can assure you - this is not something I can actually choose to do again.
Big thing, food, isn't it? I am now more of a gourmand than ever, and mostly this pleases me because I can really get off on imagination.
But then sometimes I just really want to make myself some toast.
Oh well, thanks for listening. I feel better now.
Now that I think about it, it has been ages since I've had this reaction. So, yay me, I suppose!
Still, shame about the toast. If someone had used as an example of cherishing life in each and every moment, (because you never know when you might be suddenly struck by a re-entering zero-gravity toilet from a defunct space station), the idea of contemplation of the simplicity of toast - I may have had a chuckle.
Seriously folks, do please make your next piece of toast the best you've ever had. It will be so worth it.