Correction: yes, we have many bananas
Breakfast; lunch: lasagne, garlic bread, salad; banana and custard
Trigger warning: pet loss (skip the paragraph starting “I’m happy to give it the Garfield seal of approval…” if it’s a sensitive topic).
Firstly: mum will be going home tomorrow, absolutely definitely. I would feel more joyous on her behalf if I hadn’t spent so much time on the phone trying to get various organisations, and departments of organisations, to talk to each other in order to get to this point.
Secondly, for those who haven’t seen it on the RMHP Facebook page, where I shared it earlier today, I have been provided with a copy of this week’s menu:
There are a couple of days when I’ll need to make the decision whether to try something new, to satisfy my own curiosity and to provide interesting content, or whether to play it safe and make sure I’m sufficiently fed. I’m pretty sure you can guess which days I’m referring to from a brief look at the menu!
As I was settling down to sleep last night I suddenly realised that no-one had taken my order for breakfast this morning, such orders usually being taken just after lunch the previous day. (Why they do so, when they wheel all the options around on a trolley anyway, I don’t claim to understand. )
I therefore wasn’t sure if I would get breakfast at all this morning but because, as noted above, all the options were sitting right outside my door already, I was able to have my usual breakfast of Weetabix with hot milk, toast with butter and jam, and banana number 1 of the day (the rather bruised and battered one just visible in the background below).
Plenty of fuel for the morning’s physio session, for which I waited, and waited, and made a phone call, and waited some more, then made some more phone calls, and waited some more. And then lunch arrived, and now it’s 2pm1 and there’s still no sign of the physios. It’s a good thing I’m good (or, more accurately, annoyingly impatient) and have been doing all the prescribed exercises and (please don’t tell the physios this bit, as they sternly told me not to) practiced walking on my own.
Today’s lunch was homemade beef lasagne, coleslaw, and garlic bread, to which I requested the addition of a side salad. (Next time I ask for one, I really, really must remember to ask them not to include celery so I don’t start the meal picking it out piece by piece, like the old game pick-up-sticks but with vegetables and an above average chance of getting coleslaw all over my fingers.)
Having seen some of the travesties mascarading as ‘lasagne’ on RMHP recently, I was a little concerned about today’s offering, but my concerns were thankfully misplaced: this was good lasagne. Not quite as good as my BIL’s version, for which I would (and have) crossed counties, but definitely worth taking a break from nonexistent physio sessions for: good, meaty, not too tomatoey sauce between soft but not soggy sheets of pasta, and a nice creamy, cheesy topping (made with good strong cheddar, because this is the UK not Italy and we like cheddar in our lasagne over here. Or at least I do). I initially thought it was a slightly small portion, but it was properly rich and I couldn’t have comfortably eaten more, although I would almost certainly have tried.
I’m happy to give it the Garfield seal of approval: not the venerable lasagne-loving cartoon feline, although I’m sure he wouldn’t turn up his animated nose at it, but his real-life namesake. My Garfield (well, mum’s, technically, but I loved him as my own) very sadly had to be PTS while I was in hospital (#f*ckcancer đ đĸ), and is now on the far side of the Rainbow Bridge where I have little doubt he is begging nearby angels for just a tiny taste of their lunch.
The accompanying coleslaw was clearly pre-made, but of decent quality, unlike what was in yesterday evening’s sandwiches. (I’m going to look really stupid if it’s the same stuff, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t. ) The garlic bread had no real flavour, but added some welcome crunch.
Physio has now arrived – excuse me for a short while.
And I’m back. Where was I?
Oh yes: as you will see from the featured image, my lunch came with fruit (yay!): an apple2 and banana number 2. Which prompted the question “do you still want a banana with custard as well?”. Of course I do, so that’s banana number 3 of the day.
Sorry, got sidetracked by phone calls to and from the hospital, and social services, and mum, and the hospital again, and now I’ve completely lost my train of thought. đ¤đŦ
Oh yes, scores:
- Breakfast: 7/10 – about as good as any meal with cold toast and a bruised banana is ever going to get.
- Lunch: lasagne 9/10; salad and coleslaw 7/10; garlic bread 7/10; banana and custard 10/10 (it is what it is, and you either like it or don’t đ¤ˇââī¸); overall: 8.25/10
Thank you for reading, apologies for any mistakes from me getting repeatedly sidetracked, I’m going to go and drink my latest cup of coffee before it gets completely cold.
Is it pineapple sponge today? 