I understand food is difficult for many people undergoing chemotherapy… it takes away your appetite, it makes food taste weird…smell weirder.
It’s very much a case of a little bit of what you fancy does you good…. it’s just finding something to fancy.
The whole food thing is exacerbated for me as my diet is so a)restricted by my ulcerated colon andb)bound up in the neurosis of knowing if i choose wrongly i’ll end up lying in vomit followed by a trip to A&E.
In the ten days following my second lot of chemotherapy I lost about three quarters of a stone. A combination of not fancying anything, vomiting, dehydration and surviving on hospital food. It’s a lot of weight… and its weight I know I HAVE to make back up before I go round the cycle again… I can’t afford to lose a big chunk of weight each time.
My appetite started to come back whilst the blood transfusion was dripping into me (maybe it was donated by a fat lass in Burnley).. I was eyeing up the tupperware boxes of snackerals and treats the family of the lady in the next bed had left to tempt her. She also had cloudy lemonade and lime squash and I had terrible cravings for citrus sucky sweets… it was a close thing that I didn’t sneak over under the cover of her snoring and denude her stash. It was only the thought that dragging my blood stand over there would wake her that stopped me. (…and of course a perfectly formed moral code).
Having turned down a corned beef sandwich from a distance of a couple of feet becuase it smelt so rank – I know I have to approach food carefully.. and if food arrives in bulk its scarily off putting. As is cruising a supermarket looking for things I fancy. It’s total overload.
First day back at home I fancied a bit of turkey (mais oui!) through trial and error I found a few thin slices on a plate brought about devourment… the whole plateful of remaining turkey made me panic… and a plate of turkey cut into mouth sized pieces and arranged daintily on a plate was also passable and made me laugh and feel like a well loved ‘proper’ poorly person. (thanks Annie).
Luckily I recognised an urge for cheesecake… non fruity… just plain; boxes of new york vanilla cheesecake just seem to disappear as I breathe them in…. its cake – but its cheesy. Its cheesy but its cake…. and its got shitloads of calories and its cold and damp as a foodstuff – which for some reason is also very attractive.
So I’m eating… avoiding the roughage, seeds, skins etc… aiming high calorie… and spending my time trying to channel gastronomic inspiration and still hoping (against hope) that small attractive meals will arrive on my lap at regular short intervals (preferably carried by entertaining company or monkeys in jackets as I’m rather bored).
I suspect sooner or later I’ll have to get up and make myself my second lot of buttery toast of the day instead.
