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  Texas : Features : Columns : Spunky Flat and Beyond :

Oyster Stew

by George Lester
George Lester
When I was eleven I ate nothing but oyster stew for about six weeks. I wasn’t a picky eater. It was the only thing I could eat without hurting my throat.

During that era just about all kids had their tonsils taken out sooner or later. Thank goodness, medical science no longer holds to that theory. Before I had the operation I had heard that the first thing they gave the patient was ice cream. I had even seen it in the movies, a kid enjoying a big bowl of ice cream as soon as he came out from under the anesthesia. When I regained consciousness my throat was hurting so badly I didn’t want ice cream or anything else, not even water for a while. I was so anemic the doctors had a hard time stopping the bleeding after the operation and even two weeks later I had to be rushed back in to the hospital when my throat started hemorrhaging in the middle of the night. I knew by then that the image portrayed about tonsillectomies in the movies was far from reality. When I could finally start a liquid diet I tried several different types of soup. Most of them had something in them that made my throat hurt. One day my mother gave me some oyster stew. That worked just fine and that was my staple for over a month until I could get back to solid foods again.

I would watch the rest of my family enjoying things like fried chicken, corn on the cob, French fries, beans, hot dogs and other delicious foods. It seemed ages to me since I had enjoyed such fare. I reflected back to the time when I could partake of anything I wanted and wondered why I didn’t eat more when I had the chance. I vowed that once my throat had healed I would make up for my deprivation by eating everything in sight for the rest of my life. I pretty well kept that promise too.

Many years passed and the operation became just a distant memory. It would be reasonable to presume that I would hate oyster stew for the rest of my life but the opposite was true. For some inexplicable reason I developed an addiction to that dish for life. When I was in the Marine Corps, the mess hall often served oyster stew. The rest of the guys in my outfit would put up an awful fuss and make veiled threats involving the cook. Not me, I was happy as a lark with gallons of oyster stew all to myself.
© George Lester
Spunky Flat and Beyond - A Memoir
7-14-2004
 
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This page last modified: July 14, 2004