For the first time in months, I went out over the weekend – and what I mean by out is that I went to places where I could sit with other people and be served. I had a brief taste of it a few weeks ago, but this was the real thing.
Both days were sunny. On Saturday, Donna came over for the first time since I moved. We walked down the road and sat in the sunshine, having coffee and tea and picking at a muffin I couldn’t enjoy. Afterwards, we walked by the beach.
One of the best things about it was having a meaningful conversation, and not just the practical, passing conversations I’ve had for most of my time in isolation.
Yesterday, another friend came over, and we drove towards Mordialloc. We sat in the sunshine again. He had lunch. I ate a few fries for the carbs, not the taste. When the clock ticked over to two, we ordered some gin from the dispensary there – first a cocktail, then a blood orange gin with tonic.
I didn’t know what to expect of this. I haven’t had an alcoholic drink since July. I’m much out of practice. Plus, I’ve lost all this weight since. But, no problem – except, because of my taste buds, I didn’t experience the complete enjoyment of the moment. I could taste about 40%, but no matter, the moment was symbolic.
It was good to get out, and if I pushed the limits a little, that’s okay. I pulled up well.
I’ve decided the time has come for me to push it a little more. I know most of my friends think it’s premature, but I feel as if I’ll never get ahead unless I begin to test myself. The simplest things have made me breathless. I have to push the envelope.
I’m still fatigued. I’ve spoken how I can sleep so easily. I’ve resisted it to a degree, though I realise I need it to heel. I feel a bit of a slop sleeping during the day, but if there’s any time I can be a slob, then surely it’s when I have cancer?
It’s all a bit of a balancing act. Exercise is good, but it burns up calories, which I struggle to get in. I can’t be silly.
Previously, I averaged about 1500 paces daily, which is fuck all (it was around 9,000 when I was healthy). I’m going to push the average up to 2000, then 3000, and so on.
I’m encouraged in doing this as the situation with my taste buds is improving. I need to explain this.
It’s my theory only that two factors were affecting my taste buds. The first was the backwash of all the cells killed by my treatment, flooding my nose, my mouth, my stomach (making me nauseous). This is pretty nasty and made practically everything inedible. The overwhelming taste was salty, smoky, bitter.
The second factor relates directly to chemo, which makes things taste metallic. These two overlaid each other. Now I’ve stopped treatment, the backwash has diminished, though a remnant remains. It makes eating easier, though – thanks to chemo – everything tastes metallic.
I’m testing the limits regarding food also. Nothing is enjoyable, though some things go down easier than others – sweeter things and some fruit flavours.
As always, it’s a day by day proposition. I’ll be in a much better place when there’s no more backwash, and my nose is cleared, and when I can taste truly. I can hope for part of that in the next 2-3 weeks, I think, as for the rest, it could be anytime now, or in months.