Things are changing. More likely, everything’s doing what it’s meant to and I’m the one turning a corner.
This eating stuff is hard work! I visited the dietician and collected 2 bags of supplements plus an eating plan. I was as happy as a little piggy when I saw all the pills! It’s such a different spin on things to be taking on stuff to help myself rather than break myself down (with chemo). 2 weeks on and I’ve mostly got a handle on what I’m doing. Who’d have thought re-feeding was a process of re-education! I’d been vaguely concerned about how my body might react but it hasn’t imploded (surprise!) or rejected any of the foods, pills, or changes.
The dietician hadn’t wagged her finger at me as I’d anticipated. Everyone else, including she who’d never laid eyes on me before, seems to understand that I’m on some mission and not to blame for my sorry state. Time to be more forgiving towards myself.
I’ve definitely been under-nourished for 2 years. How could I not be? I’ve been poisoned with drugs and obediently avoided antioxidants and a myriad of things that strengthen and nourish all so that the drugs (that didn’t end up helping) could function. I’m pissed off about that. Can you tell? I’ve been angry with everything – the doctors for working on a back foot, myself for not seeing any answer, life for being so bloody unfair and soddamn slow to right itself. I fell into my own comfortable prison.
Can you imagine being so used to discomfort that you accept it as the new norm? It’s obscure and insane! I know that so many people must live through their own versions of it – living in war-torn countries, abusive relationships, toxic addictions.
Every time I glimpsed a slice of what life should be like, I’d shut it out. I couldn’t bear the trauma of being in it but not being able to partake of it the way I wanted to and the way I knew I’d once been able to. I grew weary and withdrew. I knew I needed to find a way out and reluctant to lean into the patience that might get me there, was the most frustrating thing. I settled into survival mode regardless.
Of course, it’s plain as day to anyone else but it’s taken a tipping point of sorts for me to see this. There’s no way I could’ve seen how things were before now. I can’t even say what triggered it; it just came one day. My brain understood the abnormal situation but my heart (or something) seemed clouded over and couldn’t comprehend it. It’s as if an obstacle has been removed and I’m able to stand and move forward again.
I’ll see the dietician soon for a follow up. The supplements are running low. At some point, the oncologist will call me. She’ll probably be waiting for a report from the dietician and of news about the clinical trial. I have no idea what the tumour marker might be. I haven’t thought about it in ages. It doesn’t matter, really. This positive development is news good enough that I’m content to bask in the excitement for the time being.