I’m twelve hours out from my hysterectomy,
& the last thing I want to do is eat.
I’m 23 & in more pain than I was expecting.
My doctor tells the nurse to give me
more nausea medicine in the hopes
that I’ll finally feel like eating.
It doesn’t work.
Nothing sounds good. I turn away
everything that is offered to me.
The salad. The chicken. The sandwich.
The potatoes. The carrots. The pudding.
But then the nurse brings in
a small carton of chocolate milk
& I immediately chug it.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
She says if I finish this, I can have another,
so I gulp down four small cartons,
one right after the other. I consider
a fifth one, but decide against it.
The nurses keep my room stocked
with chocolate milk until
I feel well enough to go home.
Rachel Tanner is a queer, disabled Southern writer whose work has recently appeared in Videodame, Moonchild Magazine, Barren Magazine, and elsewhere. She tweets @rickit.
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