2023 was a rough year for us.  It began on my birthday at the end of April (worst birthday ever).  A few days before my birthday, I noticed a large lump in my groin.  I had an appointment with my PCP on my birthday, and pointed it out to her.  Ultrasound showed “a lump.”  Very helpful information.  CT scan, however, showed an abcess that apparently developed after a particularly bad bout of diverticulitis about a month earlier. My doctor sent me to the ER, where I spent 14 hours in what could have passed for a bus station except not as nice.  I spent 4 days in the hospital, had the abcess drained by interventional radiology, consulted with a colorectal surgeon, and discussed surgery sometime in the future. 10 days after I was discharged the abcess recurred, and I spent another two nights in the hospital having it drained again, and the surgery I’d dreaded for years — which I could no longer put off — was scheduled for the beginning of June on the day we were supposed to leave for vacation.  Oh, and our beloved Jasper, our 11-year-old duck tolling retriever, quit eating on my birthday (that’s for another post).

As it turned out, I had three fistulas secondary to the diverticulitis that needed repair.  When I met my surgeon for the first time in the hospital, he declared me a “disaster.”  Apparently his mother didn’t teach him that if you can’t say something nice about someone you shouldn’t say anything at all.  Over the course of the next 4 months my vocabulary expanded with words and phrases that I hope never to have to use again, including colon resection, loop ileostomy, nerve conduction velocity, GGE (10 out of 10 do not recommend), stricture, diversion colitis, flexible sigmoidoscopy (10 out of 10 do not recommend), and takedown surgery.  Each surgery and complication presented its own challenges.  Thankfully, by the holidays I had recovered from everything (except the PTSD), and the gut problems I had struggled with for so long disappeared.   I had one more surgery this year — completing a trifecta of abdominal surgeries — right before my birthday (of course, why not ruin as many birthdays as possible?) to repair a HUGE (my surgeon’s description) hernia that developed at the site of the last two surgeries (as my surgeon declared to his fellow in my presence, “if anyone’s going to have a complication it’s going to be her”).  I am reminded often that it could have been so much worse.

Although I have no complaints with the excellent care I received throughout, it was inevitable that there would be indignities along the way, and indeed there were.  I dealt with these mostly by treating them as out-of-body experiences. Friends and colleagues had a general understanding of what I was going through, but for the most part, it made people uncomfortable to talk about.  I certainly wasn’t ready to blog about it back then.  But as you’ll soon see, the experience has provided inspiration for several recipes, and this post provides context.

Seeing as this is, after all, a food blog, I have a little recipe.  Before and after my surgeries I was on a low-residue diet, which is basically low-fiber foods, and is apparently difficult for the general population to understand.  Whole-grain products, nuts, and most fresh fruits and vegetables were out.  One of the foods I could eat, however, which I had shunned for decades, was white bread.  Who knew a slice of buttered white toast could be so tasty? (10 out of 10 recommend.)  It also makes a perfect, easily digestible, grilled cheese sandwich (and only American cheese will do!).  Don’t get me wrong — I know how to make much more elevated grilled cheese sandwiiches — our favorite is made with jarlsberg and prosciutto on artisan bread with pesto (told ya).  But every once in a while, when my world seems off-kilter, I treat myself to one of these most basic comfort foods.

Lightly buttered with salted butter — unsalted won’t taste nearly as good

Golden brown — Goldilocks would say this is “just right”

Sandwiches taste better cut on the diagonal