... was only marginally successful. I went to get food for The Man Who Lives Here, when he was incarcerated in the Cardiac Care unit of the hospital. I will not attempt to understand or explain why his tray for dietary dept. failed to materialize. Most of the meals thus far had been whatever they wanted to send. He is not hard to please with food, and will eat almost anything. But he asked me to look at the menu, call and place an order, so I told them chicken strips. Which has not yet come.
The tech. kept saying poking her head in the door to say: 'it's coming, it's coming.' 'It's on the way.' After a interminable wait, I stood up and said: "That's it. Do you want your sandwich from Arby's or Chic-fil-A?" He said he thought a chic'n sandwich would be a good idea.
I went to my car, drove to the store a block from the hosp. and placed my order, as the drive through line would have taken until breakfast. Got my two items and hoped I would get back to feed The Man before the belated meal from the hosp. kitchen arrived. That meal I ordered on Sunday afternoon has still not come on Wednesday night.
When I opened the bag, I found his sandwich and my: not sandwich. I like the chicken wrap, and love the packet of avocado-ranch dressing. I got the dressing but not the wrap. In the same box where you can usually find the delicious, vegetable filled chicken wrap, I found a side salad. I was so hungry, even that was very good. But it was not what my mouth expected. So when I left there headed home, I went back by the Chic-fil-A store and said: "Can I pleeze have my chicken wrap sandwich now?"
Took it with me to work today to eat for lunch. It was good, even four days late. Which is still far better than the dietary dept. at the hospital is doing, if we were still there waiting for chicken strips.
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