I think I clarified in my last post that I will not be consuming any trifle before I die. But dying does open the door for a host of long-neglected culinary indulgences. For an eternity, as you know, sodium has been my nemesis. I have been on a sodium-restricted diet since 2013, with occasional lapses when I venture out for a meal like a normal person.
With my death sentence, all food restrictions have flown out the window. A little sodium isn’t going to kill me now; my failing bone marrow is taking care of that. I dare say that my burgeoning baby bump may be surrounded by a fair bit of fluid due to my recent increase in sodium consumption. It turns out all the foods I want to consume with abandon before I die are all salt bombs. Pizza, dim sum, Thai food, grilled cheese with bacon, anything that actually has some
salt flavour. You may have some suggestions for me. I’m listening.
You can recall I recently tackled the Golden Arches, to my deep disappointment–darn that excess special sauce–but I have had many more tasty indulgences since. Why, just yesterday a dear friend treated me to a lovely Thai lunch. I approached the meal cautiously, ordering vegetarian salad rolls and coconut rice, but I thoroughly enjoyed every bite. My friend’s Pad Thai was to die for, but I’m taking small steps.
Forget that; I haven’t time for small steps. I’m going to eat every previously banned food between now and my end. If only my appetite weren’t suppressed by my spleen’s pressing on my stomach, and by the progression of the illness itself. I’m eating, but not enjoying the food as much as I might have in the past. Sadly, eating to my heart’s content gives me heartburn. Hunger pangs are largely absent. I know, I don’t believe it either.
Then it hit me how selfish I am to indulge in relentless sodium-laden meals before I die. There are grave consequences of my doing so, especially to my pallbearers. How much extra weight will they have to lug around because of my overindulgence in long-forbidden foods? My nearest and dearest are getting older. Many of them have back or hip or other joint injuries. Will my excess necessitate orthopedic surgery?
Hopefully not. Pallbearers these days often aren’t tasked with the physical labour they once were. Now there are wheelie carts to move the coffin and suspension systems to lower the casket (and whatever ginormous body lies within) into the ground. (Let’s assume I’m not the only one trying to move through my long list of Last Suppers.)
So I will continue to work through my coveted food list, hoping I reach its end before I reach my end. Truth is, I can only eat so much at a time, and thus far my weight has barely budged. I don’t envision my BMI reaching the obese, or even the overweight, range before I die, although stranger things have happened. Even if I do balloon, I’ll rest assured that advances in graveside services will prevent serious injury to others. If you decline the request to be my pallbearer, I vow no hard feelings. I’ll be dead by then.