I am told there are a number of basic but important matters to consider when going through cancer treatment. Near the top of the list - nutrition and hydration.
Sounds simple. Keep hydrated, and eat well and consistently.
It's not that simple though. Hydration is relatively easy. I now have bottles of water in every room and am consuming way more than I used to. I am still drinking tea. Coffee less so. It depends on how I feel on the day.
Generally, pop is not my thing (do they still call it that?). Too much sugar for my taste.
Alcohol, which used to be a yes-yes is now a no-no. Mixing it with immunotherapy drugs can 'kill' the liver and kidneys and whilst I enjoy a glass of wine, it certainly is not worth the risk to destroy any of my useful organs.
I suspect these organs are already in a state of shock wondering why they are no longer being fed their usual concoction of wine and more wine.
I started drinking alcohol when I was around 17/18 having tasted and rejected it in my earlier years. Never one to give up, I persevered.
Despite promising myself never, ever, ever, ever to drink alcohol again several hundred times following table-top dancing holidays, bar-top dancing nights out and general debauchery and lack of self control, I continued to imbibe regularly up until the day before the insertion of the Picc Line.
The occasional dry month or alcohol-free medical necessity has allowed me to self-check in the event of some sort of reliance. It has never been an issue, thankfully, and still is not.
To my surprise I neither crave, miss or want it. Although I should throw a caveat in here. I have not had any of my favourite meals since this treatment has started and I am a sucker for a great steak served with a glorious glass of red wine. But given that I don't think I can eat a steak now I think I will be able to control the temptation.
Food, however, is a problem. There are days when it is particularly difficult to eat because of nausea. So simple foods have to suffice. I am back to eating bread. Soup is an easy solution on bad days. The not so bad days mean cooking, but my sense of smell and taste has been affected by the treatment. I have cooked a meal and been unable to eat it because of the smell.
I have also cooked a meal and it's been inedible, but that was when I was 19 and thought four tablespoons of mixed peppers meant white and black pepper. I am more informed now.
I believe I could write a blog about food travel. Note that I do not mean food and travel.
Some foods barely visit my insides before they re-emerge at the speed of ....uhm...! I am like a social experiment in my own home. Any brand owners who are looking for a strapline such as "sticks to your insides even under duress" should get in touch.
And if you are a chemist and want to know how quick you can turn a solid into a liquid....! Eeew!
On good days I can and do eat normally, and really enjoy cooking. I think the trick must be to 'be like a hamster'. If you see me wandering the streets and I look a little on the "cheeky" side it might be that I have grown my own cheek pouches and am storing food in readiness for a good day.
Despite the avoidance of alcohol and the reduction in calorie intake, there is no significant weight loss. This is good news because weight loss during this cancer thing is not wanted. It is likely the steroids that are provided alongside the immunotherapy are balancing out my weight. I do have some spare weight (never called it that before) and every time I go for treatment they weigh me. They do not laugh, nor tut and I have yet to see a raised eyebrow when they write the number down in kg.
Fortunately I am of an age that means I weigh myself in pounds, not in kilograms, so unless I look up a conversion table I have no idea what I currently weigh.
Ignorance is bliss!