Post 97: Dietary adjustments and estate agents
The breeze and clouds were a welcome change — but the heat is on (still), as Glenn Frey used to say.
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Today’s hospice visit was food only — my final counselling session has been delayed a week, which gives me a week’s grace on completing my “homework.”
I’m still not sure how I feel. I think I’ll just Google it and leave it at that.
I’ve always been a bit of a chameleon when it comes to emotions. Sometimes hyper-empathetic, sometimes reacting before I even realise I’m reacting. I change tack like a racing yacht, which can be perplexing for me and for those around me. And with an inability to hold a grudge, I tend to forgive and forget too quickly — often before I’ve even processed what happened.
So… how do I feel?
It depends.
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One thing that is changing is how I feel about pills. The younger, fitter me didn’t need a single one — but now, the present-day me needs an ever-growing list of them just to function. And when I say “function,” I mean: be as human as cancer and the meds allow.
My Darling and I had a good chat about my diet and how it might help the ever-present issue of bowel movements. Turns out, codeine is used to stop diarrhoea — which might explain why, even with the laxative powders, my body’s natural rhythm is all over the place.
I’m getting really fed up with having to think so much about something that was automatic for 99% of my life — until prostate cancer.
And I do get hacked off when I think back to the days before it all.
Pre-prostate-cancer (PPC) life.
Three years ago, we were just… living. We ate what we fancied, went where we wanted, planned events without worrying about mobility, medication, or bowel reliability. Nothing held us back except imagination, budget, and maybe a lack of courage.
So yes, looking back stings right now.
But onwards. I’ve bought a big box of premium medjool dates — not prunes, true, but high in fibre and utterly delicious. Like catnip for humans (like me). In a choice between chocolates or quality dates, I’ll pick the dates every time. So, the diet gets a little boost — and it was pretty good to begin with.
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While in town, we popped into an estate agent — just for a chat, but ended up filling in a form and booking a valuation for later this week.
It’s a start.
I’m trying hard to step back and let my Darling lead on this one. I’ve always been a bit of a control freak when it comes to home-related stuff, but this is different. These choices — the downsizing, the future planning — they need to be hers.
This is about making sure she’s in a space she can manage, comfortably, after I’m gone. No pressure. No forcing it. Just gently making plans. And this was a good first step.
So yes, the cat hair hoovering and tidy-up will commence in time for the valuation. Maybe we’ll get a few more quotes to compare. There’s no rush, but it’s good to feel like we’ve begun.
A new distraction. Something practical. Something hopeful.
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Still on the bus. Chemo 3 coming up.
But the pain is better controlled, and I’m sleeping more comfortably — more often than not.
Now comes the gradual goodbye to things that won’t fit in the downsized forever-home — the physical echoes of a bigger life.
But not the memories. Those travel light.
