Thumbs up to hospital food
At the beginning of January 2019, my thumb began hurting. I assumed that it was a spelk, rubbed some TCP on it and forgot about it. Usually, my favourite antiseptic of all, would’ve wiped out the sting in no time at all but on this occasion, I knew that it was a little more serious than normal, as an hour or so later, my temperature began to rise to the point where I was shaking uncontrollably. I decided to go down to the hospital for a quick check-up. There, my temperature rose even higher and so did my blood pressure. After observation, it was decided that I should go to North Tees Hospital for further checks. By then, my thumb had inflated even more, nearly doubled in size, was aching very painfully and sporting a purple tinge. A warm, red line began appearing on my arm from my thumb up to my elbow.
After more checks, I was put onto antibiotics and morphine for the pain. Even though I was really worried at the source of the infection, I knew I was in the best place. As the sun rose, the whole of Teesside came to life out of the window, overlooking Seal Sands, the Transporter Bridge and even Roseberry Topping far off in the background. Trying to give myself something to look forward to in the future, I promise that when I got out of here, I’d climb the hill once again.
The pain had not subsided and the red infected line had travelled even further up my arm.
The breakfast trolley came around. Porridge, cereals or toast. I expected some eggs in some form or other, but just plumped for toast, butter and marmalade. Something I only eat in hotels.
In midmorning, a typed menu was handed to all four patients in the ward. Two had been hospitalized for a few days already and they had their favourites, like chicken Kiev and chips, and rice pudding. My first hospital food for over 35 years was a disappointing piece of cod in a glutinous mushroom sauce served with a few overcooked vegetables. I was fortunate not to be very hungry.
Later on, the second afternoon, I was spared the embarrassment of having to choose any food at all, as I was put on a “nil-by-mouth” diet for the forthcoming operation on my thumb.
I was put under general anaesthetic and my thumb was operated on to flush out the poison. When I came to a couple of hours later, I returned to the ward and was immediately presented with a plate of corned beef hash and mashed potato. In all my life, I have very rarely refused to give something a try, but one of the only things that I cannot get my head round is corned beef. Karen makes the most delicious corned beef pie, I am told. The kids adore it.
The nurse was kind enough to offer me an alternative meal. I thought that a cheese omelette and chips would be a safe bet. From then on, I decided to stick to salads and I must admit that they have been very good.
On Sunday evening, during visiting, Karen sneaked me a plateful of Sunday dinner. I wolfed it down in minutes and sat back on my bed sweating.
Even if the hospital food was quite plain and simple, I really admire the logistics behind catering for thousands of patients from morning to night.
I was told that the infection might have been caused by a nick from the sharp bone out of the chicken I boned.
An entire week in hospital just for a poorly thumb after a lifetime spent in restaurant kitchen slicing, chopping and dicing!
Who would’ve thought?