Menovoidal [men-oh-void-all]; the condition of "huh?"

….Saturday night.  Have to make a post for Sunday.  It's 8:30pm.  I post at midnight.
 
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It seems that when relating my menopuggled status to you earlier this week, there may have been some organic basis for the total lack of energy and enthusiasm.  By Thursday evening yours truly was awash with sneezing.  It continued throughout Friday and into this morning.  The famous elixir certainly helped ease the symptoms, but it could do nothing about the main one.

There is no tsetse fly in India so I can't claim sleeping sickness.  But sleep I most certainly did.  All Thursday afternoon, pretty much all of Friday (somehow getting to classes in between) and for a goodly part of today also.  Last night, in addition, Excalibur decided to usurp the position of the right tonsil and on any movement resembling swallowing, goes into attack mode.  I've managed to demonstrate tithiksha (forbearance) by not actually screaming out loud.  However, I am sure the girning face is a bit of a give-away.  It threw me right back in time to that incident in the school canteen… (aha! There, y'see, I do have a post after all &>*)

I am something of a natural vegetarian.  Always have been and there was many a struggle in our household as mother attempted to get me to eat the 'toad in the hole' or the 'monkey-gland stew'.  Why Dad ever thought that name would be an enticement for enjoyment of eating another creature's flesh has always been a puzzlement to me.

Something I never really had trouble with, however, was fish.  If it was good enough for Jesus it was good enough for me.  Nowadays, of course, it is not on the menu at all, but I can't promise that will always be the case.  (YAM! Kya? The canteen..oh yeah)…

There are some very mixed feelings when I think back to the school meals.  I was there during the time when eating the meals provided was compulsory and monitored and I can recall some discussions between mother and Headmaster with respect to some apparent displays of fussiness.  I'm sorry but if eating reasonably good meat at home was a struggle, imagine being faced with various forms of offal and cheap cuts floating in coagulating fatty excuse for gravy.  Mother was something of a pioneer in kids nutrition and along with a group of other mothers was instrumental in getting the school to at least provide one alternative dish, usually pasta in some form.

Every Friday was fish day and that was good.  Also, the chips seemed always to be good.  One day came the plate which put me off fish for many years to come, however.

You should know, I am a careful eater.  (Read S L O W).  It would drive my family crazy.  At school there were one or two other grazers, but I was pretty much the slowest.  In our little girl gang, Aitch was out and out the winner, finishing at least 10 forkfuls ahead of Our Friend and Clutters.  The Kook was neither fast nor slow. 

That fateful day, Aitch was just finishing off her main and ready to start the rhubarb crumble (why do I recall the detail so clearly?  ...and why can't I do that for yesterday's class??)  sigh.  Anyway. Yours truly had eaten the little bit of 'salad' (a limp lettuce leaf and a slice of tomato and two slices of cucumber - I told you, I can see it before me now).  Tucking into the steamed fish in parsley sauce I flaked it as always; these were also the days when bones were prevalent in the mass-prepared item.

How, oh HOW did that bone escape my close scrutiny?  Clearly the sauce was to blame. 

Oh the pain.  The choking.  The wriggling on the floor.  Over came the canteen monitor and bundling me up onto the chair again, got me calmed down enough to understand what had happened. Next course of action?  "Eat this slice of bread, it will shift it".

Yes it did.

Deeper into the flesh of my oesophagus.   Next thing I knew I was in the 'sick room' with the school nurse wielding the largest set of tweezers you can imagine, a workman's torch and a bottle of that ultraviolet stuff they used to paint throats with.

I don't really need to describe the procedure, do I?  It was only a blessing that in fact the bone had lodged right at the back of my uvula and not (as it had felt) deeper down.  What in Heaven's name would that woman have done with those tweezers then???

For about a week, I was on liquid diet as the really rather nasty wound healed.

Eventually, packed lunches were permitted.  Those were good.  Until mother decided to try me with canned salmon...

(...so I managed a post despite the thick head, glue-eye and the entire round table of knights having a battle in my throat. 

"Is YAM exaggerating again?" 

 I heard that!  Perhaps.  But only marginally.

Oh, and GO ANDY MURRAY!!!)



5 comments:

  1. Firstly go Andy.

    Then.... Yes don't I know it she IS a slow eater.

    I faced the same with my mum trying to feed me non vegetarian, well just chicken and fish. And I did not like it much, and that is why as soon as I married, became a vegetarian. Coming upto 29 years now.

    Now you don't look too well in the pic. And this I know for sure, is that if you say your throat hurts it surely must, 'cos I know your forbearance levels. On that note, perhaps looking at the throat chakra, might be a good idea. Maybe a mandala. But having had this dreaded flu recently, I know that you need rest, and your body is telling you that. Now what Do you want to scream.
    Stay safe and well my dear.

    Sri Lankan rice congee.
    Boil rice in pan with chopped garlic. ( this is the only time I have garlic, as I can't stand the stuff). Add salt of course. Add plenty of water as it needs to be congee. When rice is boiled add coconut milk. Have it steaming hot. Needs to be watery consistency.

    Take care hugs and love
    Mah

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  2. Fish bone stuck in throat sore throat hephr sulph comes to mind. You have prob already one it.

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  3. Hari Om
    The sword fight in the larynx is finally abating this evening and voice coming back to normal... blame the tennis. Or possibly getting damp last Tuesday as muggins forgot her brolly. ssssssiiiiggghhh.

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  4. Sorry you've been so under the weather, Yam. Sore throat - not good, whether fishbone induced or germ created.

    Ah, those school meals of the 1950s - kept-warm vegetables and congealed milk puddings!

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  5. Hari OM Perpetua-ji - yes, those were the things! strange thing is the 'congealed milk puddings' were one of the things I relished!!

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