She took the tray from in front of me and left the room to return a few minutes later with several small jars in her hand. With her free hand, the nurse pulled the chair around in front of the high chair and sat herself down. She arranged the jars on the tray of the high chair with the labels facing her. She twisted the lid from one of them, took a small rubber-coated spoon from her pocket and ladled out a spoonful to feed me. I was appalled. There was no other word for it. My nurse intended to spoon feed me from a jar like an infant. I opened my mouth to object and she popped the laden spoon in before I could utter a word. When I closed my mouth I discovered it was filled with the most ghastly substance it has ever been my misfortune to endure. As an epicure, I pride myself on my ability to name the ingredients in a dish and be able to approximate the recipe with a single taste. This was some form of overcooked vegetable-chicken purée made from third rate meat approved for institutional use. It had a grainy texture that coated my tongue in the most disgusting way, leaving me with the intense desire to wash my mouth out with soap and swear off vegetables forever. I swallowed the vile concoction and found my mouth filled again. The muscles of my abdomen contracted violently as the muck hit my stomach and caused it to rebel against such maltreatment. It was horrible! I tried to tell her to stop but all I accomplished was to force a mouthful of the revolting stuff to dribble down my chin and fall into my lap. She merely smiled in a sickly sweet way and shoveled another spoonful of the sludge into me. I pointed at the mess she was making on the front of my gown and she said as she heaped more abuse upon my tastebuds, “Don’t worry about the gown, it’s disposable. We don’t use feeding bibs here, when the patient finishes eating, we change his gown. It’s much easier that way.”
When I put my arms up to indicate I had had enough, my nurse said calmly, “I’d put my arms down if I were you. The head nurse is the one who told me to spoon feed you. She saw me getting the baby food out of the cupboard in the nurse’s station and asked me who I was getting it for and I had to tell her what happened. She agreed to your change in diet and told me to feed you as if you were an infant. She told me that if you gave me any trouble, I was to tie your wrists to the arms of the high chair with gause strips. The head nurse gave me some other orders for your lunch which you’ll see after you finish these jars. If you refuse to eat, we’ll sedate you with a tranquilizer and feed you anyway. It’s your choice, you can do it the easy way or you can make it hard on yourself. One way or the other, this is what you’ll be eating. Now are you going to cooperate, or do I call the head nurse and have her get the tranquilizer ready?”