I was just over at Clarissa’s lively blog and read her post about Milk Magic Melon Milk. It reminded me of something that happened to me some time ago so I started writing a comment. Then I decided to post it here instead because some mention of a medical procedure might not sit well with the readers of a food blog, hehe. (Check out that blog if you haven’t; Clarissa posts daily reviews and notes about restos and foodstuff — some of which you might not otherwise notice — available in the metro.)
So ok, my little melon milk story: Magnolia used to sell melon milk in bottles and back in college (a loong time ago), it became a daily treat for me. Everytime I crossed the street from our dorm to the convenience store, my sisters knew I would be coming back with a chilled bottle of melon milk (we did not have a refrigerator).
Then one day I got really ill (no, not from the melon milk, but something else) and had to undergo several lab procedures. Forty-five minutes before one such test, the nurse gave me a big and tall glass of something that was supposed to make my organs more ”M.R.I.-able”. It tasted exactly like melon milk. Chilled, too. I thought, oh this is NICE. Then he brought in another glass which I drank up less eagerly, feeling some bloat coming on. Then he brought another. Okaaay. Then a fourth one! Now I was like, Do I have to?
A couple of minutes after I finished that off and feeling ready to burst, I was made to lie down on some apparatus and was strapped in. When the evil nurse came in again with another glass, I triumphantly said, I’m already lying down. He said nothing and left. Ah, the relief. Then he came back with what I imagined was a sly grin, that drat concoction and aargh!, a bendable straw!
Evil, I tell you.
By the time the hospital discharged me, I was cured of two things. And it took more than a decade (no kidding) before I went near a glass of melon milk again.