Screw Science

I have officially abandoned my quest for definitive scientific-based knowledge regarding the connection between diet and cancer. For every argument made on one side, there is at least one counter-argument, and I am certainly in no position to know what is valid and what is not, so I give up. *SIGH* What I can say, however, is that whether this whole vegetable/grain deal has super cancer-fighting powers or not, I have not felt this good in a very long time. For this reason, I will stick to my new plan.

I eat as much as I want and never feel bad about it, because everything I eat is good for me. (With the exception perhaps of tonight's coconut milk extravaganza; see below.) And 'as much as I want' really isn't all that much - I'm finding I feel fuller for longer... I don't get regular stomach upsets like I did before, and I feel sort of 'light' all the time, despite weighing more than I would like to, though that is changing as well - the new program is definitely compatible with weight loss.

It's been 18 days, and I had sort of suspected that the cravings would have begun to plague me by now - cheese, chocolate, hamburgers, whatever. But nothing so far. I walk past the M&Ms and the Sparkies (nasty waxy little Skittles rip-offs) in the grocery store on a near-daily basis, and feel not even a hint of longing for these items. Meat is another issue altogether, as my indifference to this seems to be slowly evolving into something approaching revulsion. Not the raw bits in the grocery store so much, but the grilled hunks of it I see on peoples' plates. I have hospital flashbacks and I want to hurl. I have to keep this feeling in check though, as I have no intention of becoming one of those ultra-sensitive preachy types. I do it my way, you do it yours, and ya, as they would say in Spanish.

Tonight I did splurge though. It would appear that I have morphed into this highly social creature...a lasting effect of chemo perhaps? I still love my alone-time, but this week I have found myself in exceptional company every night. And tonight I actually fed my company. Such responsibility!! I have all my life had this (arguably irrational) fear of feeding other people - what if they don't like what I make? What if I mess it up? What if....etc. etc. (It seems like such a silly little thing, but I swear it was a major roadblock in my brain and social life!) I guess that's another one of the side-effects of the big C - I don't scare as easily anymore. So I made some Thai curry (I will not think about all the FAT in coconut milk), and it came out okay, and we washed it down with lots of red wine.

Is it crazy that I feel happier now than I did before I got sick? My life is certainly more uncertain, there are risks, there are fears, and there are an infinite number of bad memories. But I feel that some part of me that has been sleeping for a very long time is starting to wake up and see the world, and actually want to be in it, rather than just observing with quiet indifference. It is a most delicious sensation. It's either that, or the wine. Or the company. Something about tonight was very delicious indeed... Don't you just love that thumbs up from the universe when everything comes together?