The next several weeks were busy with physical therapy and trying to eat the hospital food. YUK! This was alleviated somewhat by my Mother and Greg, who would treat me to REAL food once in awhile. I remember having to fill out the menu for the following day’s meals, and as I read the choices I would think, I don’t like that, I don’t like this, I Don’t like that. So I would ask Greg or my Mother to please bring me something to eat for lunch or dinner as the hospital wanted me to eat something that sounded normal to most people, but to me, sounded like glorified dog food!
It was my good fortune to have to spend Thanksgiving in the hospital. Unfortunately I am the world’s pickiest eater but, of course, I blame my parents for that. My mother always told me that some of the main reasons she and my Dad got married were that neither one of them smoked, or drank, or ate onions, garlic or cauliflower. I not only do not eat onions, but there are also a million other things I won’t eat. Anyway, turkey is one of the foods on the NO list and my choice of food that day was either a turkey dinner or what they called, “Thanksgiving cottage cheese.” We still joke about the Thanksgiving cottage cheese. More than likely it’s going to be the food, or the lack of it or how bad it tastes, that you remember most about your hospital stay.