In the fall, when the chemo had taken away my tastebuds, food and drink were necessary chores that provided little pleasure. Another slap in the face to the cancer patient, the inability to taste food results in a lack of motivation to eat at all, at a time when it's really important to eat and keep one's strength up. I ate anyway, because not eating meant I felt really badly; I treated chemo nausea like pregnancy nausea and ate small snacks all the time. I lost the sweet and sour tastes and kept some sour and bitter, which is fine because I like those flavours.
I bring this up because the other night we were at the home of friends, and we were having some wine with our pizza. Not fabulous wine, but good utility wine that tastes fine and compliments the food. Our friends are not wine drinkers and the husband asked me if what we were drinking was good, and I said yes, it's good for this meal. Is it good on the big scale of good wine? No. Good wine is wine you like, and right now I like this, so it's good. It doesn't compare to some of the '07 reds I've had out of Niagara lately, but that's of no consequence. Good wine is wine you like.
I like wine a lot, and I like it because it is a complicated thing and because I can taste many of the nuances that any winemaker can find. I was worried when I lost my tastebuds, that this ability wouldn't come back, but it seems that after several months everything is completely back to normal in that respect. I realize too that I was worried that I wouldn't have the full range of flavours not because it wouldn't be as much fun to drink wine, but because I wouldn't be able to talk to people about the same kind of wine experience any more. And of course it wouldn't be as much fun to drink wine, and I'd end up just guzzling plonk all the time because what the hell's the point....yeah, poor me. Actually, one recommendation from a friend was to drink sweeter wine when the tastebuds were buggered because those would actually taste pretty good, but that didn't work.
It's not that important any more, just an observation. Now I'm dead tired again, as usual. The Tired is hanging around a lot lately.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Rant rant
I should be grateful that Moderately Large University has offered me a job. I should be thrilled to take their money in exchange for the most fun job in the world, ever.
And yet, I feel trapped. It's as though we've gone from that easy-breezy sort of relationship where we're close and maybe there's a future but nobody ever talks about it...you know, like living together, to full-on married. Suddenly I have a commitment, I have to tell where I am all the time, I have to make sure I put my hours in, and damnit all to hell I used a week of vacation when I went to Cuba. Did I know I was using a week of vacation? Shouldn't I have been aware of that? Sure, except that I wasn't clear enough about the "I'm not here don't pay me" part of the instruction. So they paid me. So I took five days out of my precious 15 days.
This is bugging the hell out of me. I am squeamish about this new arrangement, one where we're tied together and I can't just sneak off for a day or two without checking in with the powers that be. Instead of having control over my time, I have to report my time. I take a day off, I lose one of those vacation days.
I realize that most people operate this way, but for the last 12 years I haven't had to tell anyone how I was spending my time, because most of the time I was working like a dog. I still work a lot (hello? fatigue? you can suck it.) but now I don't have autonomy. I'm not the independent entity I was before.
I liked it better when I wasn't reporting to anyone. Staying home doesn't pay as well as working though, so hi ho hi ho....and get used to it and quit complaining already. I get it. I have a job that I love, I'm lucky. Trapped and lucky.
And yet, I feel trapped. It's as though we've gone from that easy-breezy sort of relationship where we're close and maybe there's a future but nobody ever talks about it...you know, like living together, to full-on married. Suddenly I have a commitment, I have to tell where I am all the time, I have to make sure I put my hours in, and damnit all to hell I used a week of vacation when I went to Cuba. Did I know I was using a week of vacation? Shouldn't I have been aware of that? Sure, except that I wasn't clear enough about the "I'm not here don't pay me" part of the instruction. So they paid me. So I took five days out of my precious 15 days.
This is bugging the hell out of me. I am squeamish about this new arrangement, one where we're tied together and I can't just sneak off for a day or two without checking in with the powers that be. Instead of having control over my time, I have to report my time. I take a day off, I lose one of those vacation days.
I realize that most people operate this way, but for the last 12 years I haven't had to tell anyone how I was spending my time, because most of the time I was working like a dog. I still work a lot (hello? fatigue? you can suck it.) but now I don't have autonomy. I'm not the independent entity I was before.
I liked it better when I wasn't reporting to anyone. Staying home doesn't pay as well as working though, so hi ho hi ho....and get used to it and quit complaining already. I get it. I have a job that I love, I'm lucky. Trapped and lucky.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Genetic Counselling
Tomorrow I will visit the cancer centre to see one of the genetic counsellors there. After a 1.5hour meeting, she will decide whether or not I qualify to have my genetic testing covered by provincial health care, or whether I'll have to pay for it myself. I assume that we will go through my family's cancer history, something that I submitted to the genetic testing office a few months ago, and then decide if my cancer prior to the (magic) age of 50 makes it worth looking for anomalies in the BRCA1/2 genes or not. This will impact my sisters and my daughter and if it's a positive test, then it will impact me too, as I'll have to decide whether or not to have further surgery. Personally, I don't think that genetic testing is going to indicate too much but it will be interesting tomorrow, this meeting.
On the weekend I had a hankering for books, not that I don't already have a ton of books that need to be culled...but I went to the used bookstore downtown and after a 30 minute search of the shelves, came home with a vintage Douglas Coupland (Girlfriend in a Coma), Christopher Moore (Fluke) and Emma Richler (I can't remember what it's called but it's not Feed my Dear Dogs because I have that one). All comedy. I can't read anything serious right now, or sad or conflicting. It's like I need to be amused all the time, nothing weighty.
(continuing in the random slices of life...) I feel like I have lost the ability to empathize, and I'm noticing that things that would never really have bothered me before are really disturbing, or they make me unreasonably angry, or sometimes sad. It could be the hormone therapy, it could be more stuff that I'm dealing with that I don't know everything about. What I mean is that I overreact to things that are said to me, and they stick with me, and bother me, and I turn them over in my head and put a great deal of energy into them, when they really aren't worth all that time I spend. Losing empathy means that I am turning inward more and more, which I don't feel is positive. I'm not sure what to do about this, whether to visit the social worker at the cancer centre or just work through it myself. Certainly I know lots of writing exercises that could help out, and I know that actually doing some physical exercise will help. I just don't feel like doing either of those things. Slight depression looms, I know it's out there. Maybe the comedic reading will keep it at bay, who knows. Maybe I'll just work more, find some focus.
On the weekend I had a hankering for books, not that I don't already have a ton of books that need to be culled...but I went to the used bookstore downtown and after a 30 minute search of the shelves, came home with a vintage Douglas Coupland (Girlfriend in a Coma), Christopher Moore (Fluke) and Emma Richler (I can't remember what it's called but it's not Feed my Dear Dogs because I have that one). All comedy. I can't read anything serious right now, or sad or conflicting. It's like I need to be amused all the time, nothing weighty.
(continuing in the random slices of life...) I feel like I have lost the ability to empathize, and I'm noticing that things that would never really have bothered me before are really disturbing, or they make me unreasonably angry, or sometimes sad. It could be the hormone therapy, it could be more stuff that I'm dealing with that I don't know everything about. What I mean is that I overreact to things that are said to me, and they stick with me, and bother me, and I turn them over in my head and put a great deal of energy into them, when they really aren't worth all that time I spend. Losing empathy means that I am turning inward more and more, which I don't feel is positive. I'm not sure what to do about this, whether to visit the social worker at the cancer centre or just work through it myself. Certainly I know lots of writing exercises that could help out, and I know that actually doing some physical exercise will help. I just don't feel like doing either of those things. Slight depression looms, I know it's out there. Maybe the comedic reading will keep it at bay, who knows. Maybe I'll just work more, find some focus.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Incredible
Okay, this isn't an entire post, but you know those stupid fat-burning ads you keep seeing all over the place? Elden the Fat Cyclist wrote an amusing post about what those ads contain (because if you try to navigate those ads? you'll never find anything.) Enjoy.
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