Corduroy Orange

It used to be that I thought breakfast in bed to be a luxury. I would often be out of bed before Aurora on the weekends, and occasionally I would make a meal to take upstairs to her. On the mornings when she got up before me, I would whine about how she never made breakfast in bed for me; even if it was just cereal, couldn’t she at least deliver it to me so I didn’t have to get up?

Now, as my friends and other people who check out this page regularly may already know, I’m laid up in bed with a broken leg/ankle and can hardly get up at all. I spend mornings, noons, and nights in basically the same position: flat out on my back with my leg elevated on three pillows. The tables have turned in the meal preparation department, and then some. Aurora makes pretty much everything we eat without any help from me (though thankfully friends have been helping us out with an occasional meal; by which I mean, we’re thankful Aurora gets a break every now and again, as opposed to me being thankful I get to eat something not cooked by Aurora, which isn’t the case because she does pretty well in the kitchen), and then delivers it to me in our bed.

The meals she’s been making me have been great. My breakfasts have often have cereal in them, but they’ll have a little fruit salad and/or some yogurt on the side; juice and often coffee. My dinners have been phenomenal. She and my sister made steak and roasted root vegetables one night, roast chicken with couscous and root vegetables another. Many of the other meals have been made of leftovers transformed one way or another. In the post-Thanksgiving period, I had several meals containing a delicious casserole of turkey, broccoli, leftover bread-and-walnut stuffing, cream-of-something soup, and cheese. I’ve been getting tasty salads made with fresh, local greens from the Kretschmann Farm. All in all, my meals have been gourmet.

I really appreciate the personalized attention and the amount of effort she puts into caring for me, but the bed has become my prison. I’d love to be able to get up and walk downstairs on my own and sit in a chair for a change. Or to go outside and down the street to the little diner for a fried egg sandwich and a cup of coffee. Heck, to be able to roll over and lie on my side or my stomach would be pretty kick-ass right now. Instead, I’m right where I’ve been for the past two and a half weeks….

Oh well, as my grandmother used to say when someone was upset about their medical condition, “You’re young, you know what’s wrong with you, and you’ll get over it.” I just wish I’d get over it more quickly, that’s all.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 6th, 2006 at 7:27 pm and is filed under Rant. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.