Slowly, slowly, some sense of humanity reinstates itself. The symptoms abate, the energy tide turns. Once again, I can summon the strength to walk into the sun. Damn, it’s bright out there.
Yesterday my appetite started serving up notice. I wasn’t out of provisions completely, but after a week of cocooning I was bored with the contents of my pantry. I dressed, called in an order of Thai food for pickup, and emerged into the light.
It was mid-afternoon. I ordered spring rolls and an entrée. I meant to eat the spring rolls right away and save the entrée for evening. Once I unpacked it all, though, I decided the spring rolls needed a good chilling to be at their best. Socking them into the fridge, I turned my attention to the entrée.
It was my first order of this dish from this particular restaurant. I wasn’t sure what to expect and I wanted a peek. It looked great. It smelled wonderful. My stomach took me hostage on the spot. I grabbed a bowl, dished up half the portion, and dug in. I can’t tell you which I enjoyed more—the food itself, or the surging animal hunger that rose to devour it. It’s the first true sign of recovery.
I won’t say I’m well, but I will say that I am so much better.