Food for Thought

For the past 36 hours misery has held me hostage, confining me to bed or sofa. I awoke yesterday with a headache pounding like a jackhammer, sinuses clogged like concrete, and a need to hang my head over the toilet or a bucket to heave. With kleenexes in hand I tried to get comfortable in any position, sitting, lying, half-lying but the pounding would not leave me, nor would the ensuing chills and sweats, and the nausea and vomiting that went with it. Nary a sip of water would stay down. Last night I was desperate to be able to keep down some Advil so I tried a single cracker, hoping to put something in my stomach before the medicine. Turned out not to be a good idea, so I struggled through the night in pain, ready to poke out my eyes for relief. This morning I crawled out of bed at 5:00am so I could see if anything would stay down before I had to head to work, but my body was rejecting any form of nutrition. I hated to miss our staff meeting today but there was no way in hell I could have done the 45 minute drive to work and then spend a 12 hour day in hell. I could think of nothing else but finding a way to relieve my head. I was actually too sick to get to a doctor on my own so I mostly drifted in and out of sleep between the waves of nausea. Finally, around 2:30 today I was able to keep down some liquids, venturing a few sips at a time. Then a few bites of instant mashed potatoes. Then medicine. More rest. More sips. More potatoes. Finally I could be upright without feeling like my stomach was churning. I still have a headache but it is more of a dull thud now.

So now I am craving cinnamon toast. For most people, the thought of putting sugary, buttery bread in their bellies after being sick may not seem the wisest thing to do. But for me, cinnamon toast has always been one of those comfort foods from my childhood. I will wait a while to make sure I can stomach it but before the night is over I am sure I will have a slice. As a child, whenever I missed school due to illness or my frequent asthma attacks, my mother would fix cinnamon toast when I was well enough to eat again. I would sit in bed with the plate of toast along with the puzzles and word scrambles that she made up to entertain me quietly. She would check on me frequently, touching the back of her hand to my forhead, brushing my hair from my eyes, and listening to my breathing for signs of improvement. I know my asthma attacks frightened her at times, but she always made me feel safe and calm. While she is no longer of this world, I feel her spirit nearby. I take comfort in these past rituals of my childhood.

These thoughts made me stop to think of the other comfort foods in my life. Of course, there is Big Red, which I have previously written about. Mashed potatoes with their starchy goodness seem to help me combat nausea. I have used them to help cure motion-sickness and morning sickness, hangovers and nausea from headaches. It doesn't always work, but for the most part this is the first food I try to keep down when anything ails me. Toasted buttered cheerios are a favorite snack from my childhood as are red licorice sticks. I have a candle on a table in my living room that evokes cravings for giant cherry sweettarts from back in my Girl Scout days when I was drawn into the corner grocery as I walked to the meetings and would sometimes spend my dues on this sugary treat. Other favorites are macaroni and cheese, meatloaf, and baked corn pudding. Of course, coffee has become a favorite, especially when enhanced with a splash of Bailey's Irish Cream. What are your comfort foods and what memories do they evoke?