A Hungry Woman

As a hungry woman, I am desperate to avoid situations where people are eating or even situations where there is a potential for eating. Sounds impossible doesn't it?  Well maybe it's not.

For example, earlier this week my dear old Aunt B went into the hospital for surgery and I decided to pay her a visit. Since Aunt B is my mother's sister, I invited Mom. 


I know what you're thinking: Will I ever learn? But this time I had it covered. The plan was to pick Mom up right after I left work and since this was going to be after 1PM, I figured she would eat lunch at home. And just to be sure, I asked to please eat before I got there. That way I could avoid witnessing one of Mom's junk food banquets. Good plan, right?


So we get to the hospital and Mom needs to stop at the gift shop to get a little something for Aunt B. Sweet, right? We each pick out a trinket and walk over to the cash register when suddenly Mom, sucked into the gravitational pull of chocolate, does an about face and heads straight for a display rack loaded with candy bars. 


It wasn't a long walk from the gift shop to Aunt B's hospital room, but it was long enough for Mom to finish a giant (like the size of your foot) Three Musketeers. As I led the way through the hospital corridors, Mom ambled along behind me, chewing,sucking, smacking and swallowing. If her legs had moved as fast as her mouth we would have arrived in Aunt B's room faster than you can say matricide. And Mom enjoys a candy bar even more than she does a chicken wing. If I had had the courage to turn around and look at her, I might have witnessed true love.  


But to be fair, she had to finish her Three Musketeers because there was no way it was going to fit into her purse and since we were visiting Aunt B in intensive care, Mom couldn't very well walk into her room carrying a humongous hunk of chocolate. I'm pretty sure that there's no food allowed in ICU. 


When we got to her room, Aunt B-poor thing-was hooked up to a number of machines and was just waking up. Her surgery had been the day before and she was still a little groggy from the meds. She apologized because she had to remain flat on her back. Doctor's orders were that she was not to lift her head off of her pillow and she was not allowed to moved her left arm, which was hooked up to an IV drip, among other things.


A few minutes into our visit, Mom and I excused ourselves from the room while one of the nurses came into attend to Aunt B. As we waited outside I could have sworn I saw someone carry a tray of food into her room. "Must be hallucinating, I thought, because this is ICU and there's no food allowed here. Is there? Besides that, Aunt B can't eat. She can't even raise her head."


Not too long afterwards, the nurse opened the door and invited us back into the room. For a moment I thought I was being punked, because there lay Aunt B flat on her back with a plate on her stomach. Eating a grilled cheese sandwich. With her good arm. And this wasn't one of those hospital food sandwiches. This was a beautiful grilled cheese with just a hint of cheese oozing out of the ends and the bread grilled to just the right color. It was a flashback of the grilled cheese Mom used to serve with tomato soup.

I may be in need of a mental health professional, because in that moment I envied Aunt B. What kind of a person is jealous of an 80 year old woman in a hospital bed eating a sandwich? A really hungry one, I guess.


Still, I was glad that Aunt B was doing very well. After about an hour, Aunt B looked like another nap was coming on (My guess was that the grilled cheese did her in), so Mom and I left.   


Never one to be outdone, Mom opened her purse during the drive home and whipped out a plastic bag full of peanut butter crackers. My torture didn't last long though. The crackers were history in about 2 exits.


Oh and what I said about avoiding 'eating situations.'  Yeah. Impossible.