To make matters worse, food just taste terrible right now. I have given up drinking my life long friend, Diet Coke. It has been months and honestly I have no desire to even drink it. So, I drink a lot of water. Today, The Boy was out of school and we celebrated with a Mommy/Son lunch at our favorite Japanese Steakhouse. The food there tasted good. I ate a great meal but the water tasted like pure metal. It is a taste that has stuck with me all day long. Metal. Metal. Metal.
Wayne and I went out for dinner tonight and I was so excited to have my favorite puffy taco from Margaretta's. The taco tasted okay but the Margaretta I ordered with it tasted horrible. I wasted an entire glass of frozen Rita with salt. Wayne would not even drink it. He picked tonight of all nights to tell me he hates Margaretta's. (this is seriously strike 2 against him!! How could I have been married to him for 3 years and with him for more and not know he does not like Margaretta's??) (In case you were wondering, his strike one, is that he loves jelly/pudding filled donuts, which I think are the most disgusting thing in the world.)
Have I told you all how miserable I am? The chemo diet is effective. I continue to drop pounds. But man, it is a horrible diet.
I remember when my Dad had Cancer. He knew long before any of us that he was not winning his fight. We watched him drop pound after pound, wasting away to nothing. I know I am winning my battle. I may have dropped 15 pounds but the Cancer is not winning here, I am not wasting away to nothing. I look in the mirror and I know I am winning.
I told Wayne tonight I am a plan for the worse kinda girl. My last treatment is suppose to be November 8 and then I will have the PET scan. If they PET scan is clean and shows no more Cancer then I am finished. But, if the PET scan shows more Cancer, then I have two more sessions. I am trying to psych myself up to do the extra sessions if needed. Because if I am honest with you all right now, I barely have the strength to do the last session. God will have to carry me through the others if I need them.
As I close, The Short Chic just carried a freshly peeled orange downstairs to eat while "nuggling" with her Momma. It looked so good that I begged her to share. No such luck, still taste like Metal.