I was daydreaming for a while this morning, thinking about what we might do for Thanksgiving this year. What kind of non-traditional but celebratory dinner might we prepare? But then it occurred to me that I might learn during tomorrow’s visit with my oncologist that I might not be able to enjoy Thanksgiving at home this year. I may be recovering from, or preparing for, surgery to remove a piece of my lung. That thought had the temporary effect of ruining my temporary rush of happiness at thinking about a special Thanksgiving dinner. But then I recaptured my train of thought and went about daydreaming.
Regardless of whether I’ve already had surgery or am recovering from it, I do not want the celebratory meal to include an animal’s lung. Not that I know of any dish prepared from an animal’s lung. I understand that haggis uses lungs, so haggis is off the menu this year. I gather the USDA advises against eating lungs, anyway. But, then, other types of offal are okay. I read somewhere that brains are illegal; I’m certain that’s not true or, if it is, it’s a recent restriction.
Perhaps a vegetarian meal would be appropriate. Aren’t plant-based foods supposed to be good for people with cancer? And, I suppose, for people who would rather not have cancer. I could construct a replica of a turkey using sweet potatoes and carrots. I’d probably have to do that before any surgery, though, as I suspect surgery might negatively impact my ability to stand up and shape vegetables to look like a cooked bird. I don’t really like the idea of turkey for Thanksgiving, though. Maybe I could create replicas of guinea pigs—cuyes, in Spanish—so we could pretend to be eating a Peruvian delicacy. Hell, maybe I could just order cuyes from a purveyor of specialty meats. I think I’ve written before about a specialty purveyor that sells all manner of exotic carcasses. I seem to be drifting away from vegetarian. Maybe I should return to the healthy alternative.
Now I’m drifting back into that “what if” territory that has the potential for taking my mood down a notch or two. I should stop writing and return to my now-cold coffee. And daydream about Thanksgiving dinner instead of write about it.