Feed Me in the Nursing Home

Black Silk Dress
August 10, 2017
I got that covered. Plan for plan B
August 10, 2017

Feed Me in the Nursing Home

The Advance Directive Diet

If I ever need a puree diet then I am only accepting items that are meant to be in that consistency, for example oatmeal, mashed potatoes, pudding, ice cream and perhaps butternut squash, like the frozen kind that is already mashed up. I wrote in my living will that I am NOT to be served puree of something that isn't naturally of puree consistency. Pureed ground beef. Pureed corn kernels, pureed broccoli. I truly hope I have the wherewithal to promptly spit it out. Y para bieber senora? I want a glass of wine or a Bud Light Platinum beer even if it requires a doctor’s order in the nursing home. Is that reasonable?

They Better Have a Macrobiotic Chef

When I get there, I am not eating what they serve in the nursing home. By the time I get there they better figure out how to cook short grain brown rice correctly. No long grain. I am not eating anemic white rice just so they can add the fiber back as a Metamucil cocktail. And that’s not the end of my requests. I want it with ginger tofu and a leafy green. I will concede that the greens might need to be a little finely chopped and a tad overcooked. I will make another concession on the tequila and just take a glass or two of Merlot.

If It’s Anything Like Hospital Food...

Inexplicably, I love airplane food. Maybe it’s the little dishes and trays in assorted shapes that makes it so much fun to eat. When I am in a nursing home, I will request that my food be served in quaint little ramekins on compact little trays, like airplane food. Perhaps it will help me feel like I am on a pleasant journey that will end in exciting new vistas. There must always be an accompanying dessert--NOT JELLO--that in some way contains chocolate. I shall also require at least one cocktail a day, at very least that stuff that tastes like a Bloody Mary without the alcohol. And red wine is always nice. Here’s hoping my “Voyage” will be “Bon.”

Knowing What I don’t Want Leads Me to Know What I Do Want

I don’t want boiled, dead vegetables. I don’t want chicken or anybody’s ribs. I don’t want processed foods, which includes anything that comes in a box or a can. If I find myself in a nursing home I’m sure I’ll find myself compromised in my food preferences. If I were to make my demands now for the prospect of being tucked away, my list of edibles is as follows: Freshly grown organic produce lightly steamed or raw. If I am to eat meat, may it be grass-fed and humanely treated. I would continue self-medicating with red wine, a nice microbrew, and the occasional shot of tequila in my coffee. For dessert, chocolate only please.

Various Contributors

2012 November thirteen

Red wine on black background photo by chelland at deviantart.com

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