Nutrition is one of my horror topics, since ME took hold.
There is of course the issue with food allergies and intolerances that probably has been written about enough already.
But for me, there is much more that makes it difficult to get food to my home, my fridge, my tummy.
The first additional problem I noticed, was, that I felt unable to wish for foods. When I thought about it, I came to the realization, that my supermarket, corner shop, even the displays of the sellers ar farmers market had no real representation within my mind anymore.
When I first fell ill, my carer told me, which supermarkets she would be able to go to and I went through it virtually, knew what food was placed in which isle and what kind of veggies and fruits would be on offer.
This works quite well, when you’ve actually been there a few weeks or even month before.
But after years, the supermarket chain closed, another one popped up. Your favorite old farmer has gotten ill himself and the younger generation switched your favorite kind of lettuce for a kind that is less demanding to harvest and more hip at this particular time.
I have no idea, if everyone housebound would find himself in this situation, at least potentially those as visual, imaginative as myself.
They say, TV commercials shape, what you want to eat, because you see it. I need to see food before I know, that I want it too.
I can’t watch TV and I also have no intention of getting myself into craving artificially coloured and flavored cheerios.
But when I found places to order groceries and get them delivered, it got easier. They had for example a picture of a Braeburn apple and below you could chose, how many.
Worked well for me. The delivery fee was not super great for my budget, but hey, you’ve got to make sacrifices.
This way I was actually able to chose what I wanted and get it to my flat. My husband gently put the foods away.
Now the next problem started to show. Several times he had to clean out fridge compartments, because something had started to rot.
I found out that for me, the fridge door and the department down low, where our veggies are kept are still pretty much invisible. And my memory is so faulty and has let me down so many times, that I wouldn’t even believe it, if it told me, there were young carrots inside.
Adding to that, I also very often have got myself out of emotional pain by stopping to want those things out of reach, that it seems to work unconciously against me.
The carrots as well as Kohlrabi have to be peeled, which I can’t do without risking a bloodbath, as my fingers are quite numb. (Not a common ME symptom, but somehow infection and immunoligically caused vasculitis have damaged my sensory nerves.)
So even if the carrot came to my mind when hunger struck, I’d probably not go for it.
My lovely husband just told me, I should just ask for it.
Yeah, I probably should. But while “Asking for stuff” would make a good topic for another blog entry some time, I most of the time would have no idea what to ask for.
We haven’t developed a solution yet. Maybe I will get some raw veggie sticks later, which I will happily eat.
But as my lovely husband is not all about routines and always preoccupied with fighting for something I need but got rejected by docotors offices, insurance or the social agency, it might be forgot again.
But as we are creative people, we will keep conquering this and all the other problems that, when you are disabled and/or chronically ill, tend to pop up like the moles in the “whack a mole”- archade game.