I was following medical orders, right?

When I saw the CNP a couple weeks ago, after all the lab work and doing a few range of motion exercises, the best advice she could come up with is to keep doing my walking and cook red meat in iron pans.  Although we are still tinkering with the dosage of the thyroid medicine, it seems the hematacrit? number 34 is on the very bottom of Normal, which means that if it drops one more digit, I would be on the edge of anemia.  This could be a reason I’m sleepy so much of the time.

This is why the Red Cross keeps rejecting me for donation, they don’t want to contribute to any reason which would risk my health.  They did give me a list for foods high in iron, and caution about drinking tea.  I do love drinking my tea, ever since I was a little kid, so I’m saying that hitting age 50 means I’m beginning to fall apart from the inside out.

Saturday, I found myself craving a hamburger, also known as beefy red meat.  I mean really, really wanting one, like I haven’t had a need since the time when I was pregnant with first baby and I ate two hot fudge sundaes in one sitting. 

There wasn’t time or energy over the weekend to get a hamburger.  Besides, ever since Wendy’s closed, I haven’t been able to buy a burger my way.

By Monday, my yearning was really set on a hamburger sandwich.  I worked up an even bigger appetite by walking to the post office.  On the way home, I decided to put my cooking skills to use.  I got back to my driveway, then got into the car and drove to the nearest grocery store.

Angus beef patties were on sale for $2.79 a pound.  I bought 3 packages, giving me 9 patties.  Wheat buns, a tomato, a sweet onion, leaf lettuce, cheddar cheese slices.  At home, I knew waited dill relish and Miracle Whip spread.

Back at the house, even before taking off my coat, I turned on the broiler to get it nice and hot.

Patties on the drip pan 5 inches from the flame, 6 minutes on one side, 4 minutes flipped over.

Meanwhile, I toasted the bun and warmed a slice of onion on the iron griddle.

I piled my sandwich so high I had to use the spatula to flatten it for an easier way to bite in.
I also had a pile of potato chips (did you know LAYs fries with sunflower oil now?) and a bottle of Goose Island Grape soda.

Eating all alone in the kitchen, I could almost remember it as good as the times when my dad took us kids to the cafe next door to the funeral home.

I wrote an e-mail to Husband to tell him all about it, and that I was done cooking for the day, and had clean-up over, so he would have leftovers for supper himself.  He said his own lunch was pretty big, so he fixed something a bit on the light side in the evening.

Today, I took the next burger out of the fridge, reheated it on low in the microwave, and did the same lunch all over again.

Maybe tomorrow, the guys will help to use up some more of the meat.  Not that my cravings are complaining about having nice food in the house.

I’d better get up and work off some of the calories I’ve consumed.
A cycle never ending.  Years to live yet.

~~love and Huggs, Diane