If it wasn’t so frustrating, I’d laugh. Actually, on some level I’m laughing.
2 weeks into my re-feeding plan and I hit an obstacle. The last few days of it, I was lethargic and couldn’t be further than a few metres from the bathroom. I lost a whole lot of fluids and electrolytes for the umpteenth time on this journey.
Because the eating plan is high in (good) fats and these are processed through the liver, apparently my poor liver wasn’t coping. It’s already processing the chemo toxins and I laid on the final fatty straw. I don’t think my liver even recognised fats much. Well, not the animal kind anyhow. Even as a kid, I couldn’t stomach bacon rind and when Mom cooked pork chops, forget it. I took me ages to eat because I’d cut out each strip of fat and only eat the lean meat!
Not being able to process that fat means my body hasn’t been getting the energy from the fats. Add to that that the eating plan promotes almost zero carbohydrates, my body didn’t have fuel. Period. Thus the extreme lethargy.
I’m back on carbs and being smart about choices: baby potatoes over donuts and baked rolled oats over box cereals. I’ve upped the juicing to a daily dose and have included a beetroot (for iron) in each glass. Now it looks less like liquidised grass and more like the deep red colour of congealed blood on a scab! It tastes just as enchanting but it seems to make a positive difference. My fridge is full of de-stemmed spinach.
Let’s see how this goes.
Practising some patience
I haven’t felt ill since I stopped chemo. Not surprising. It’s the drugs that make the experience so appalling, not so much the disease. I’m just tired.