Monday, 22 March 2010
A Matter of Taste
Being in Haltwhistle hasn't been so bad; usual side effects. Some of the drugs contain steroids though, and so, strangely, after a day of feeling totally yucky, you get the most overwhelming appetite where you could eat a house - or is it a horse?
On Sunday, I just fancied an old fashioned dinner of mince, tetties and yorkshire pudding. I slaved over the stove, and managed to produce a Masterchef-quality dinner. Even John Torode would have said 'well dan mate, thet's ixcellent.'
As the family tucked in to this rare treat, I piled my plate high, and scoffed - waiting for the lovely juicy tastes to fill my mouth....Unfortunately, everything, and I mean everything tasted like cardboard.
I looked around the family to see if they had realised that they were eating an old shoe box too. The 6 year old was quietly shovelling in large pieces Yorkshire pudding with gravy running down her chin. Husband was eating as if he'd never seen food for a week.
'Is it nice?' I asked.
'Lush.' said the 6 year old.
I didn't have to ask Husband, as he was already onto his second helping.
I managed to eat the rest of the cardboard dinner, and, thanks to the steroids, later polished off some cardboard jalfrezi crisps, some cardboard yoghurt, some cardboard ginger snap biscuits and some cardboard ham.
This morning, I wondered if the cardboard-tasting phenomenon would still be present. I nearly succumbed to the steroid temptress who wanted me to make a full English breakfast - but instead, I followed the sensible chemo nurse's guidelines and filled a cereal bowl full of bran flakes....