2016-06-30
To safeguard one's health at the cost of too strict a diet is a tiresome illness indeed.
-Francois de la Rochefoucauld

From "I'd Rather Do Chemo than Clean Out the Garage" by Fran Di Giacomo:

Are you beginning to see a pattern here? Chemo has lots of advantages. One of my favorite continues to be food. You already know I am besieged with friends bearing food and chocolate and all kinds of goodies. The best part is that I can eat them all and not gain an ounce...

Before cancer I Had been hungry for twenty years, subsisting on green, crunchy things...Do I look back now on those calorie-conscious days with any degree of fondness? No. Cancer and chemo are here to stay, so I might as well make the best of the situation (as I plop another scoop of ice cream into the hot fudge). At every step of the way these past several years, I've managed to maintain my appetite while actually using food as part of my reward system. Most chemo drugs are given on a three-week cycle. After infusion, certain days fall into dependable patterns. For a few days I won't be interested in eating at all. Sort of like a bear in hibernation I sleep for days on end, eating with reckless debauchery when I awake.

So it was with great anticipation that I drove to a friend's house recently for a small birthday gathering. It's really too bad that these ladies have reached that time in their lives when they can pretty much afford to have dinner anywhere in town but can't afford to put anything in their mouths. My friend had a mouth-watering appetizers laid out, from triple-cream Brie to a giant bowl of fresh guacamole. Everyone was standing around the room chatting politely, backed against the wall as far away from the food as possible.

Our hostess had labored intensively over this exquisite feast and I felt it was my duty not to disappoint her. Placing generous portions on my plate, I slowly worked my way around the table. Soon others began to waver and drift in a step or two. I knew these ladies were suffering. One stared at me with a fixed gaze. Then she turned, faced the table, and voila. It was a free-for-all. Forks darted under flying elbows, plates rattled, and the neatly stacked napkins exploded in a mushroom cloud. Like piranhas in a feeding frenzy, it was all over in a few seconds. Was I responsible for their failed discipline? Certainly not. I was simply trying to gain back the wait lost after the last surgery, I explained. Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

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