LittleMissSunshine
Post-Op Week 3: Lessons Learned from Pureeds
Jun 11, 2011
If I haven't mentioned it before, I'm the breadwinner in our family. My husband bartends a few nights a week, but is essentially a stay-at-home dad with our 5 year old son. Being the domestic god that he is, he cooks, he cleans, he mows the lawn... it's great.
When I told him that this Friday (last night) is when I could start pureeds, he asked what I wanted him to make for dinner. It didn't take me long to ask for Chicken Brent, a.k.a seasoned roast chicken with gravy and mashed potatos (if you've ever seen Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, you know where the name came from). The chicken is always fantastic, but his gravy is to die for--picking up tips from chefs is one of the benefits of working in the restaurant industry--I swear he'd make a fortune if he bottled and sold it. So, knowing that meats puree better with liquid, Chicken Brent seemed like the perfect first meal for my re-introduction to real food.
The past 20 days on clear, then full liquids hadn't been as difficult as I thought. Even when my husband would make dinner for he and our son, it didn't really bother me that I couldn't eat it... I just knew I couldn't, so I wasn't really tempted. There just simply was no choice if I wanted to heal properly and not risk a leak. Last night, however, was a different story... last night, I had to exert more self-control than I thought I was capable of.
Lesson # 1: Who's in Charge?
Usually when my husband makes Chicken Brent, I typically hover around the bird picking at the wings while he works on the gravy. Knowing I couldn't do that last night, I stayed in the living room to avoid the temptation, though resisting the smell was maddening. Once he was done and had sectioned off the bird, I sent him to go eat with our son while I pureed up the dark meat (thankfully I'm the only one who eats it, so I had all the legs, thighs and wings to myself). Little did I realize that resisting the urge to pick based on the smell was nothing compared to what I was about to do.
Peeling off the crispy, seasoned skin and setting it aside, I went to work with knife and fork to break the chicken up into small enough pieces to puree. The action of cutting up chicken like this not to put in my mouth, but into a container to be whizzed away into babyfood was sheer torture. The more I cut, the more uncomfortable resisting the temptation to eat some of it became.
I started getting irritable, if someone had spoken to me at that point I might have taken their head off... and then I caught myself: learning how to gain control over food's power over me is exactly what I signed up for when I had this surgery, and now I was angry that I was faced with my first real challenge? Hell no... time to get my head back on straight.
As soon as I made this realization, that this exact thing is part of the process of forging my new relationship with food with ME in the driver's seat, continuing on with my task suddenly got easier. I still wanted to eat the chicken, the urge didn't go away, but it was suddenly more like I was back in the full liquids mindset. There simply was no choice in the matter... I couldn't eat it in its current state if I wanted to heal properly and avoid the risk of a leak, I had to puree it first, so no sense wasting my energy on being pissy about it.
I got a good chunk of it it into the blender and added some gravy, which my husband was kind enough to keep totally flourless (it was more like an au jus than a gravy) so I could experiment with increasing thickness from square one to see what works best. The first go 'round seemed a bit too thick, so I added more gravy and that did the trick to get it to baby food consistency.
I carefully measured out 1 tablespoon of chicken puree and 1 tablespoon of mashed potato (per my surgeon's tips for starting pureeds) and sat down to dinner with my husband and son for the first time in weeks... and it was heaven! I've heard some say that the consistency just kills it for them, but not me... the flavor was the same and that's all I really cared about; it was delicious.
Lesson #2: Slow and Steady Wins the Race
My next challenge quickly presented itself; I needed to eat slowly to a.) make sure my new tiny tummy was ready to take this next step and b.) to avoid overdoing it. As this was my first foray into pureeds, I had no idea if I'd tolerate it or not, how much was too much, how long to wait to gauge if I was full, etc. I took small bites, savoring each and waiting a few mintues between each to see if I'd have any adverse reactions. Of course, this meant that my food got cold pretty quickly, but I didn't really care... I ate it anyway.
I'm happy to report that I actually got through both tablespoons without a problem at all (I was going to be devastated if it didn't agree with me after looking forward to it for so long). I thought about heating up a bit more--my surgeon's guidelines recommend starting with 1-2 tablespoons, but say no more than four--but no sooner did I have the thought when I started to feel a bit full. Not overfull, mind you, but satiated.
I went back to the rest of the chicken that I hadn't cut up yet and quickly went about pureeing the rest of it so I could store it into single servings via ice cube trays that I could freeze and use throughout the week (another tip from my diet guidelines). I had a lot more chicken than I did potato, but that's fine... I'll just do all chicken lunches and will bust out the potato at dinner. No doubt my husband will make more mashed potatos before I'm out of my ice cubed versions.
So, all in all, that's my first adventure with real food post-op. I'm super excited to try out some of the recipes and new foods I have added to my pureeds shopping list, which I think will be yet another flagstone in the path of rebuilding my relationship with food from square one. No doubt each new experience will bring with it new lessons and challenges, but now that I've reminded myself they're coming and facing down each will be crucial to my success, I'm ready for them!
