Forbidden Pleasures

I miss food. I particularly miss breakfast and brunch.  I used to love cooking and/or eating Sunday brunch. I made great crepes. We  used to invite people over for brunch every Sunday after Joe was born, when we still lived in the city. It was a great way to maintain a casual social life.  I still haven't forgiven C for arriving two hours late with the bananas tho...

The thing about not eating food during the day is not just that I miss it. I do miss food. But more than missing food I miss the having the option to eat and indeed, to eat what I like.  There was a time once, when I could rise and choose anything I wanted to eat: A full Irish breakfast. Port and Stilton (OK never chose that), Pancakes, Egg and chips, Cereal, donuts, chocolate, whiskey.  There may be prices to pay with potential weight gain, daytime drunkenness, halitosis or indigestion. But the choice was there if I was willing to pay the price. And there is always some price. it used to be low, is all.

Choice is nice.

Later, when I found out about the hypoglycemia,  the sugary choices were removed. But there was still the option of breakfast, and many fine choices within that option.

When the seizures started, I knew there was a direct link to food, and I tried lots of different eating plans. The one which seems to work best for me is to not eat during the day at all, so I stick to that. I suppose, technically, I do still have the option of breakfast. But now the price has climbed very high. Now the likely price is a seizure and then several hours lost, so I choose not to exercise the breakfast option.

I often choose so reluctantly.

Last week -as I moaned to you already, I felt horrible.  I felt like 15 different kinds of shite. One morning, after getting the monsters off on the bus, I figured why not make it 16 kinds of shite?  I was feeling awful anyway and planning to go to back to bed, so -sheep as a lamb; I decided to go mental and eat some breakfast. Feed a cold and all that.

Once I had decided to do this, the breakfast became a Big Deal. This would be my first breakfast in awhile and for awhile, so I should make it count. What to eat?  I looked through the fridge, freezer and cupboards before finding the perfect thing. Oatmeal. Not rolled-oats or (God Forbid) your Quaker processed shite. Real honest-to-God steel cut oats to make proper porridge.  And so I made porridge: oats, water, a little salt, boil it up then simmer to a thick gloop.

Then comes the fun part: The fixings:  And more choices! Maple syrup or honey (honey).  Milk or cream?  (Fookit! cream!). I demolished a big bowl of tricked-out porridge and enjoyed every nutty speck.  Food of kings! OK: actually it is the food of Celtic peasants. But I am descended from them, too (on me Da's side) so I enjoyed my forbidden breakfast thoroughly.

Yes, I did pass out for several hours, into my stiff seizurey sleep. But my right leg, which had been numb for two days regained some feeling that day. I don't know if that is coincidence, psychosomatic or what, but it was nice to feel my foot.

And it was very nice to eat breakfast, just once.

Comments

[elizabeth]

I am glad that you had breakfast becuase you made a deliberate choice and enjoyed it fully. I am also glad that you have feeling back, but sorry about the seizure sleep.

Your life like mine is what I say, "This would be facinating scientificially, if I wasn't, you know, LIVING IT!"

I'm thinking of ya!

[Lisa Moon]

Mmm, what a wonderfully evocative post!

Like Elizabeth said, good for you for making the deliberate choice and enjoying it with gusto!

Made me wish for a bowl of porridgey goodness myself (no Quaker processed crap in my home, but I do cop to the rolled oats thing; I know, it's just not the same, right? If I ever come visit you, promise to make me a 'real' bowl?!).

[Dee]

Oooh, was it Flahavans? Honey and cream on a bowl of steaming thick and wanton Flahavans.......mmmmmm. I am delighted you fed your cold and the payoff was worth it my friend!