You would think I would have known better than to eat raw pork but it really was not my fault.  I was only following what I saw my mom do and she was never wrong and would never lead me astray but perhaps I should have double checked that package of fresh ground meat before I proceeded to eat a handful of it. 

Let me back up to the start of the scariest day of my young life.  I was around 7 years old at the time and possessed a vivid imagination and perhaps took things a little too seriously at times.  Growing up in a family that owned a grocery store with an amazing butcher shop, we never ate any frozen or old meats, it was always as fresh as anyone could get.   Our refrigerator was always filled with butcher’s packages of fresh meats and sausages of all kinds.  My mom was particularly fond of fresh ground beef which she would roll into balls and cover them in about 2 inches of salt.  It always amazed me how she could get that much salt to stick to the balls of meat.  She would then proceed to eat them raw one after another.  At that time, I did not know that was a delicacy often referred to as, Steak Tartare.

My father always warned us not to do the same with the raw chicken, sausage or pork that was often found in the refrigerator right next to the beef.  “Don’t eat that, it will give you trick noses” (Trichinosis).  To this day I am not entirely sure what a “trick nose” is but back then he said it could kill you.  He said your body would fill up with round-worms and they will eat you from the inside.  Now that was a death, I was not willing to tempt.

Well, we all make mistakes in life and I have made more than my fair share.  But on this day, I think I found Jesus for the first of many times.  After indulging in a hefty portion of what I though was “steak Tartare” I found while wrapping up the rest of the uneaten delicacy that I had made a very bad mistake and panic set in.  My first thought was that I could already feel the worms spinning around in my stomach, in hindsight is was more likely nerves, but at that time I felt deaths door approaching.

I do a rather odd thing when faced with anxiety, fear or pain… I go on a “walk-about” and I keep walking until I am exhausted or common sense finally kicks in, which means I am usually exhausted by the end of the journey.  Now, at the time of this incident I was grounded which means I was restricted to the yard and a perimeter I could not cross even in the face of certain death.  So, I started circling the house, crying all the while.  I was facing death and was trying to outrun it to the best of my ability.  After about, what seemed like a lifetime, my mom came home.  Turns out it was more like a quick, teary eyed 10-minute walk-about but for me the grim reaper was just steps behinds all the way.

My mother informed me that I was not going to die.  She also asked why I did not force myself to throw up.  All I could think of was, I hate throwing up more than life itself (still do by the way) which is a bit ironic when you think about it.  Either way I did not die.  I never did throw up either but I now clearly understand why you should “read the package label.”