18. Petty little things mean a lot

Completely at random:
Meds
1. Putting a tablet in my mouth with food and forgetting to swallow it. Ugh. Now I know why they are coated.
2. It’s surprising how I can hold a tablet in my hand and, 5 minutes later, it’s not there. Did I take it? Is it hiding in the carpet or the duvet? I have no idea.
3. The obvious solution is infantilising and I refuse to be ‘supervised!’
Food
1. Losing my sense of taste and texture (hopefully temporarily) so I can’t even swallow my staple banana is disgusting.
2. Fresh pineapple is GOOD. Juicy, flavoursome and nutritious. Preparing fresh pineapple when you’re too weak to wield a knife is impossible. Ready packs for now.
3. High-calorie foods and nutritional supplements cause indigestion. The high-calorie ‘shots’ are undrinkable! The dessert pots are ok, preferably chocolate.
4. There is no comforting a Cadbury’s addict who’s lost her taste for chocolate.
Fluids
1. It’s bloody hard sourcing thin drinking straws now we’re more eco-aware. A straw is not simply a straw, it’s also a vast air-vent to someone with problems swallowing. The narrower the better right now.
2. Fruit jellies are a way of getting extra ‘fluid’ but short on calories. Calorie-deficient food to me is a waste of time and effort. Give me CALORIES.

3. Even water can taste foul. But then, so can tea, milk, anything really.
4. It’s surprisingly hard to increase your fluid intake while you have to drink through a straw.

Body

1. Scars tighten up if you don’t treat them kindly. They need exercise, watering and feeding. And a good massage. Massage HURTS.
2. Cording is very painful, not inevitable but hard to stop once it’s started. Keep up the massage and stop being a wimp!
3. Constipation is a pain. Suppositories apparently are an infection risk and I won’t swallow a laxative (another irrational fear) so I’m downing chia and linseed seeds like nobody’s business.
3a. What a peculiar expression, ‘like nobody’s business.’ It doesn’t bear scrutiny - but nor does constipation!
4. It’s actually quite hard to appreciate and want to look after a body that’s betrayed you by getting cancer and is expressing itself with all sorts of real and imaginary side effects.
5. A shower seat is not a luxury, nor is it lazy. It’s been one of my best purchases so far, but isn’t so lovely as my maroon sheepskin scarf (I’m pretending I haven’t noticed it’s been reduced by £20 since I bought it).

Skin
1. Years of a strict (and ridiculously expensive) Environ skincare regime have gone to pot. The products are far too strong. My face is sore, my skin is peeling and I’ve got facial eczema. Over to Simple for the duration.
2. Layers peel off inside my mouth. It’s only a little sore so far but this dentalphobe is concerned about gum health. Toothpaste stings like hell. I have replaced the electric brush with an extra soft manual brush. Do I now resort to children’s toothpaste??
3. A spot can be permanent. After my op, I developed a huge acne spot on the edge of my jaw (I can’t see it but others can). Almost 3 months later, it’s still sitting there defiantly.
4. My scalp is sore. There’s no new hair growing but none lost - yet. I’m quite excited at the idea of a buzz-cut. Not sure I’ll feel the same about being bald though. A bridge to cross soon, apparently.
5. Why didn’t I opt for the cold-cap? It’s not guaranteed successful, it hurts like hell according to many users AND it adds a couple of hours to treatment time.
People
1. People care. It’s heart-warming. People want to know how I am. Result: every bloody conversation includes cancer and treatment. It’s getting boring because friends only have (and probably need) the one conversation; I have it with each one of them.