The Post Procedure Post

Go to fullsize imageFor those of you that read the blog, you know that I was on a liquid diet on Wednesday in preparation for a medical procedure. Well, I made it through the day without any debilitating cravings but I have to say my favorite part of the evening was when my husband looked at me around 6:37 PM and asked me what I was making for dinner.  

I arched my eyebrows menacingly at him over  my sickeningly sweet liter of unidentified lemon beverage.  He quickly realized his mistake and offered to eat dry tofu for dinner. Although I would have thoroughly enjoyed watching that, I was way too preoccupied with my over liquified belly which was quickly growing to a second trimester pregnancy sized girth. My husband didn’t believe me until I stood up and my stomach practically extended beyond my toes. Cute. I geared up for round two of this liquid monstrosity which was to be ingested at 3AM. Are we having fun yet?

I may have the sweetest husband in the world or the guiltiest feeling  husband in the world  because in the morning, I awoke to find hubby had packed me this post procedure lunch. He had strict orders not to let me devour six McRib sandwiches in my drugged up stupor, so he was kind enough to pack all of my favorite snacks.

I was particularly concerned about the anesthesia because I have never actually received any sort of anesthesia before. I was very worried that I was going to be a babbling idiot or that I would morph into a raving lunatic and verbally assault any poor soul who happened to cross my path. I had the foresight to ask the anesthesiologist what sort of magic potion she would send coursing through my veins. I heard “blah, blah, blah, propofol.”  Wha? The same stuff that the King of Pop himself may have overdosed on? Rock on. Shoot me up, doc.

Go to fullsize image

Well, now I can see why MJ might have been addicted to the stuff. It was the sweetest sleep I have ever had.  “Oh, my,” I uttered, “I think it’s work…..”  and in another two seconds, I was KO’d.  Hubby tells me that I was particularly difficult to wake up. Well, duh, I thought. I was enjoying my drug induced coma. They could have left me on a steel table for the rest of the afternoon and I would have been satisfied.  It was touch and go for a minute or two when I may have thought I actually was Michael Jackson.  Sadly, my little vacation ended with a carton of cranberry juice and me asking the nurse the same question four times in a row. I was wheeled out to the car and released to the free food world.

 I carefully assessed my hunger level and considered all the lovely lunch possibilities.  I was advised not to eat leafy greens (sorry spinach) so I quickly discarded that idea.

There was a slight problem.                                          Go to fullsize image

I.Wasn’t. Hungry.

Are you freaking kidding me? It was supposed to be the most glorious moment of the whole ordeal and I had no appetite! That seemed wickedly unfair. I drank some water to satisfy my extreme thirst ( how is that for irony?) and made myself comfortable on a lawn chair to enjoy my day off of work.  Eventually, I felt small pangs of hunger.

The post procedure meal was ludicrously anti-climactic and consisted of an orange and lightly salted soy crisps. I think I was craving the orange because I was still thirsty and I thought the soy crisps would be a good way to get in some easily digestible protein. 

How boring.  Sometimes, though, you just have to listen to your cravings and give your body what it’s asking for. There’s probably a good reason we crave the things we do.  I munched on my snack-like lunch and read my kindle in the unseasonably warm sunshine. All things considered, this day wasn’t too awful.

For dinner, I dined on my beloved garden burger topped with artichoke and tomatoes.  I rounded out the meal with some grapes because my plate needed a little color love. 

Since hubby was so understanding while I earnestly tried to convince him that it doesn’t matter if you’re black or white and that ABC is easy as 1-2-3, I thought I would thank him by packing his lunch for the next day.  In an effort to use up some leftover hummus that I made earlier in the week, I decided to make hummus “pizzas.”  I spread the hummus on Thomas’ everything bagel thins and topped it with spinach, artichoke, and mozzarella cheese. I popped them into a 400 degree oven until the cheese was bubbly and brown.  These would be perfect for scarfing in between head counts and strip searching murderers. Hummus and propofol make the world a better place. Just ask the man in the mirror.

These hummus pizzas would have been good cold.....

But sometimes I like it hot


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s