Funny things us humans!

For two or three months I have been having problems eating. The side effects of the chemotherapy I was on sent my taste buds into another world, and started changing the taste of food until it got to a point where just about everything tasted like a piece of hardboard between two Ryvitas. Not conducive to good eating, and not very helpful to my wife who was beginning to wonder what on earth she could give me to eat.

I was losing weight rapidly, though to be fair there was plenty to go at, and then my troubles were added to by allowing myself to become sever;y dehydrated. I started getting out of breath to the point where I'd have to sit down after walking into the kitchen and back. Going upstairs started to cause dizzy spell, and a couple of times I momentarily blacked out. Time to call the ambulance, methinks.

After a couple to short spells in hospital to get some fluids back into me, I was given a strict fluid intake plan, and some steroids (Dexamethasone) to try to stimulate my system into taking in more food. Things progressed very slowly, but I was still struggling. Even my favourite foods and treats such as chocolate were still off limits.  Something I enjoyed one day could make my heave the following day, but I was finding a few more things to eat and starting to gain a little more confidence. This continued until last weekend when Saturday and Sunday saw a slightly larger step forward, and confidence was improving. Then on Monday of this week something strange happened that I find a little difficult to explain.

Instead of laying in bed until whenever I fancied and then wandering downstairs to try to force some breakfast down, I got up and cooked myself a breakfast! Bacon, egg, mushrooms, and a fried slice. When it was on the plate I looked at it and thought "what the hell have you done here?" old lad! Then I ate it. Every last little morsel. Not the healthiest of food, buy hey who cares. To say I was gobsmacked was an understatement. Anyway, that will last me the day - or so I thought.

Later that morning we set off for a few days break at Pontins near Lowestoft. As it neared lunchtime we looked en-route for somewhere to grab a comfort break, and came across a McDonald's. Oh dear! Guess who had a cheeseburger, fries and coke, followed by a hot apple pie. Yes, oh yes, it was me. Again, not exactly recommended as the best menu around, but again my pleasure at being able to get down a second meal in a day was almost tear jerkingly good.

The early evening came, and it was time to sample what was on offer for evening meal. I chose a slice of roast gammon and veg. Couldn't cope with the spuds as they were a bit dry but everything else went down, topped up by a slice of chocolate fudge cake. Next morning, full English. I could go on, but won't!

So, what brought about this sudden overnight change? Damned if I know. It was as if while I was asleep on Sunday night someone threw the "start eating again" switch. I can't think of any other explanation. I'm not grumbling, by the way. I am so relieved at the change to a point that you wouldn't believe. It's boosted my confidence, and will have made Marie's life much easier now that her picky husband is now almost back to a normal diet.

So, I'm not going to look for the answer to why. All we're bothered about is that it's a big boost to help cope with whatever the future brings while we live with my health issues. Having done very little for several weeks my mobility has been affected by all this, but that's also improving slightly now.

Who threw the switch? Haven't a clue - but thank you!