It's been 42 days since I broke my right arm in 3 places. 42 days of one-handedness and varying degrees of pain and discomfort. 42 days of not cooking and not caring all that much about food.
Although a couple of weeks ago - when the meals from friends and neighbors stopped coming - I did decide to try doing some assembly type meal preparation. I dragged a heavy skillet out with my left hand and turned on the flame with my left hand and threw some cherry tomatoes and already cut-up mushrooms into the same pan as some left over pasta all with my left hand. That felt dangerous enough to deter me for a few more days. Another time all by myself I boiled water for the rotini shells that came in the Annie's Mac and Cheese box but had to get help mixing in the powered sauce, which was humbling. That's the pitiful extent of the cooking I've done for the past 6 weeks.
One would think I would be down to skin and bones by now but not true. Athough I can confirm that pain does reduce the appetite, the best I can report is that maybe a few pounds have evaporated and my slothfulness has at least not led to a gain. When oh when will I get my food loving, cooking, cutting, slicing and dicing, party planning self back? [insert audio file here of long whining sound]