APRIL 9 — I am going to put this out there because I am very tired of people who have never had cancer giving me this same piece of advice.
If you guessed “avoid sugar”, correct.
The next person who tells me to do that I will personally buy a box of doughnuts just to pelt you with, so you had better show up to my house so I can get some arm exercise.
If you do not feel like having your face being used as a doughnut dart board, perhaps read the MD Anderson explainer on why cancer patients do not need to abstain from sugar to get well.
My tiredness has increased as well as my aversion towards food.
Everything tastes as though someone has dropped an entire bottle of liquid paracetamol into my food so I rarely am able to finish my meals because halfway through eating I will feel nauseous.
My food bills are currently ridiculous because too often I am just too tired to stand long enough in the kitchen to cook or my arms are jello so I don’t trust myself not to drop bowls and cups.
Takeout ends up being the go-to option on too many days or sometimes just my favourite curry cup noodles, though it seems someone else also likes the same brand/flavour as I often find just one or two cups left in the grocery aisle.
The first week right after chemotherapy is also when every bite of food gets me hiccuping or simply drinking a glass of water feels like I’ve swallowed a knife.
I have to avoid most acidic foods (coffee for instance) and foods that are too high in potassium (potatoes) so between those two things, it is quite the miracle my weight hasn’t budged at all since I started treatment.
Honestly I am a bit annoyed by my body’s stubborn refusal to lose even a kilo or two.
Even though I have tried to tell people that I don’t want nutritional or cancer advice unless they are in medicine or my actual oncologist I still get messages and emails to avoid sugar, drink lemon water, try this supplement or that herb and I am beyond annoyed by it all.
Let cancer patients eat what they want because if they manage to keep anything down it’s something to be celebrated.
My friend, mother of a cancer patient, told me his doctor told her that water was for bathing, and to feed her son high calorie liquids instead as he was very much underweight.
I must write that down for my friend’s mother who thinks warm water is the best cure-all for all my chemo-induced stomach ailments.
Auntie-ah, when my stomach is screaming in the middle of the night from gastric distress, water isn’t going to help.
Speaking of help, thanks to everyone who has contributed to my crowdfunding efforts — I have collected just about enough to cover my remaining immunotherapy sessions, with any extra (like surgery) I will probably cover by applying for a medical withdrawal from EPF.
I am too paiseh already to keep linking my Ko-fi in my columns moving on so from here on out it will just be me chronicling the ever-annoying journey thus far.
The lump in my breast has softened and shrunk somewhat but it is still there and hopefully it will shrink to nothingness along with the cancer in my lymph nodes so I won’t have to continue chemotherapy after my surgery.
Next week I will spend three days in a row at the hospital for various appointments (and more chemo).
Somehow I will quell the urge to run away to the Andaman Islands though the temptation is strong to do that instead of becoming a human pin cushion.
As I write this, I can barely keep my eyes open though it is 6pm in the evening, but I must resist else I will be wide awake at 3am in the morning.
My heart is a little heavy, though, after reading about a local musician’s wife dying of breast cancer just as she was about to start chemotherapy.
It reminds me that I am lucky enough to not just be diagnosed early but also to be treated quickly and, even if it doesn’t feel like it, being able to endure my treatment.
There are people who have had to stop their chemotherapy or immunotherapy sessions because they would end up in the ER.
Right now there is a vague pain in my hip, a strange shooting pain in my right kneecap and a bitter lingering metallic taste on my tongue.
In the long run, they will be just little things, annoying little pebbles on this road to finally be free of this annoying (but common) ailment.
So if you’re reading this and putting off your checkup... maybe don’t. An early diagnosis can make all the difference and I hope you too, like me, are blessed with one.
Meanwhile, I will order doughnuts. Life is too short to listen to some stranger tell you that you can’t have a jam doughnut.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
