|Sometimes, miracles are tasty!|
My Husby has been ill.
We first noticed it in September.
He was . . . tired.
Through October and November, he just couldn't seem to get enough rest.
We attributed it to the fact that he was busy producing yet another play for our drama society.
A stressful job.
To say the least . . .
The play closed on November 21st and we were on the road for a book tour on the 24th.
No time for rest.
By the time we returned home two weeks later, he was very ill.
But he concluded that he was simply overtired and determined to get some real rest.
Which stretched into sleeping twenty hours a day.
And giving up food.
A rather important part of every day, in my mind.
In a two week period, he lost fifteen pounds.
I finally decided to ignore his protestations and made an appointment with our physician.
Who immediately ordered him into emergency.
Where they began pumping blood into him.
The next few days were touch and go as they tried to treat him/determine just what the problem was.
They finally decided that his body was systematically attacking and destroying his blood.
Throughout this time, he still wasn't eating.
They finally sent him home from the hospital, but with strict instructions to come back every day for more testing/treatments.
And to start eating.
Still nothing appealed.
Finally, as he was rummaging through the cupboard, he discovered a jar of Nutella, mostly full.
I should mention, here, that Grant lived in France for two years before we were married. Nutella was a habit he brought back with him.
Huh. Holding the familiar jar, it suddenly looked . . . good.
He spread it on a piece of homemade bread and took a bite.
It was good.
Over the next couple of days, he went through that jar of Nutella.
Sometimes spread on a bit of bread.
Sometimes on a banana.
Sometimes with a spoon.
Then he bought more.
And ate those.
He was finally eating.
I don't know what they put in Nutella.
Hazelnuts and chocolate and yumminess.
And, let's face it, if you spread Nutella on a hubcap, I'd eat it.
But there must be some other secret goodness in there, because it brought him back from the brink.
And I do mean brink.
He calls it the Nutella Protocol.
I call it a miracle in a bottle.
It kept his motor running.
Gentlemen, raise your spoons!