Since this is a document, I’d better document the relevant.  My taste buds have been shot during the past couple of days.  Food I see that looks good tastes nothing like it should.  Coupled with the fact that my tongue is swollen and the saliva glands are whacked, what I chew ends up feeling and tasting like a cotton ball I should be spitting out.

When I mentioned this to the nurse this morning after the last therapy of the week, she responded, “so soon you feel like this?  Oh well, you’ll get over it.”  And yes, I’ll get over it.   Today’s rad treatment takes me to the 30% completion mark, at least through this portion of the process.

I’ve broken most of the nutritional guidelines I had set at the beginning.  All out the window.  So in keeping with the break, today on the return trip home, we stopped close to our local Le Pain Quotidien for a coffee and small bite.  All their breads and drinks are organic.  GV had an organic walnut bread log (finger size) and I had a chocolate chip cookie, large and very flat.  A portion of the cookie went down relatively well with the delicious coffee, the first cup in over a month (balance of cookie saved for later).  It was kind of a little treat that I probably should not have had, but there must be something to be said for a savory mental nosh.  (I think Ma calls this comfort food.)

While I was looking at the menu, I was thinking how easily I could accumulate the needed calories just by having a couple of dishes.  Even the vegetarian quiche with spinach, mushrooms and leeks was 600 calories.  Or I could stop by later for the Atlantic shrimp & chorizo tartine w/guacamole & chipotle aioli, 490 calories.  Oh how I want those calories, but they’d both taste like balled up, soggy cotton.  If only there was a way to outsmart fried taste buds.

The point is, I’ve got to be looking at this as being on the upside of the hill, knowing there is a downside.  The up and down are the intuitive reverse — the up being the fight, the down being the after fight.  My mother pointed this out by reminding me of the Ode to the Hill, that I might anecdotally relate a guy’s new found love of cycling in the mountains.

While I’m still on the upside, yesterday it was three cans of liquid brown along with a few bits of delicious cotton.  I’ve got to keep putting something in, which continues to remain challenge number one.  Pain and laxative pills just don’t make up enough calories. Perhaps I’ll saute up some cotton balls in olive oil, add a pinch of sea salt and tumeric, and wash it down with some cool mineral water.  Yes, it’s all good.

3 thoughts on “w2/d5

  1. swarrenjr

    FS: I encourage you to share your last entry with the New York Times, recognizing they may occasionally seek to upgrade their food critics; you have just that “edge” that is likely a quid pro quo . Following that, I suggest you contact the Editor of Modern Healthcare about submitting your journal. . . and then of course, there is Bicycling magazine. Look, your composition skills are simply terrific, your perspective unique and let’s face it. . . you have an attitude. Please nourish that sense of humor, then humor Gladys, and then remember you have a legion of followers sending mint-condition archival quality karma/best wishes/love. Stryker


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