The Left Side of My Plate
It seemed simple enough. Eating. I had done it roughly 50,000 times before. I was excited too - it wasn't hospital food.
I set my fork down. So very proud of myself. I did it.
Stroke? Blindess? Heart surgery? NO BIG DEAL. I am fine and I have totally go this shit.
I set my hands in my lap, proud a a peacock. At that moment I realize that I my lap was covered with dropped food. Yep. A pile of food in my lap. Food that had fallen from my fork. Food that I never saw because I couldn't even see my fork.
I look at Number 1 with tears in my eyes. She gives me a shrug and we burst into laughter. So I apparently need to make some adjustments.
This is my life now. We decide that maybe from now on I should keep my food on the left side of my plate.
