Page 26 - Naked Foodies - July 2021

I went back and completed my expedition. While travelling Europe, I knew I was not right. Something felt wrong deep inside. I got tired quickly and felt dizzy all the time. I just wanted to get home. Even the Guinness in Dublin tasted terrible.
Once home, my world came crashing down. I was desperately trying to write, but my health was getting worse by the day. I was juggled from doctor to doctor, specialist to specialist, hospital to hospital. No one knew what was wrong. There were dozens of blood tests, chest x-rays, MRI scans and even a Lumber puncture but nothing brought conclusive results. Then, very suddenly, over the course of a day, my sight faded. Within 24 hours, I went from perfect sight, to nothing. Black. Pitch black. A starless night.
I rushed to an ophthalmologist who took one look through my eyes and shipped some blood off to be tested. His suspicion proved correct. A virus had attacked the light receptor cells on my retinas and caused my blindness. At this stage, I was unable to walk. I had lost about half my body weight. On death’s door, I was rushed to hospital.
The next week was a mess of more tests including a needle through my eye, nightmares, a rude young doctor with the bedside manners of a camel and lots of suicidal thoughts. I was blind and although the doctors saved my life, my sight was lost. Gone forever. I would never again be able to cook. Or so I thought.
Time heals, but for two years I struggled. I eventually managed to finish writing my book. The story I wanted, had become so much bigger with a real twist in the tale. The book was published and then, I sat and wondered, what now?
My first experience in the kitchen without sight, was a simple one. None the less, it was torturous. A modest toasted sandwich left a tsunami of debris randomly strewn around the kitchen. The sandwich was great though.
I started getting organized in my kitchen at home. This was born more out of necessity than desire. Trying to find a lost jar of pickles hiding in the far back corner of the refrigerator can turn into a gauntlet. I wanted to avoid a beetroot and lime marmalade avalanche toppling out and smashing into the floor tiles. Although this Picasso-like food smorgasbord painting may have fetched a pretty dollar on canvas, the mess was just not worth it. I created a few of these culinary-art masterpieces before taking control of the fridge. The same happened with most cupboards in and out of the kitchen. I now can tell you exactly where my favourite Tupperware container and its sneaky lid are not hiding.
Organising the spice rack was fun. I simply smelled, tasted and felt my way around and repositioned everything in a more user friendly lay out. So bloody OCD, but so bloody vital for me and my broken eyes.
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” .tuo yal yldneirf resu erom a ni gnihtyreve denoitisoper dna dnuora yaw ym tlef dna detsat ,dellems ylpmis I“