A Matter of Taste

July 20, 2013

Ben and Jerry's peanut butter cup ice cream. It was all I could taste while I was on chemo. I couldn't drink tap or spring water; it had a metallic taste. I preferred purified water. I drank gallons of it and still couldn't quench my thirst or get that awful chemo taste out if my mouth. The ice cream cooled the sores in my mouth and throat and gave me the calories I needed, I suppose. 

When mom came to visit she made Sinigang full of spinach. She made Ox tail soup: the marrow was to help increase my blood count so I wouldn't end up in the hospital again. But after she left, it was always back to the ice cream. It was the easiest thing to get, and I didn't have the energy to make a meal. 

On this day I'm at yogurt land with my favorite girls. I put little peanut butter cups on top of my pistachio, coconut, mango and chocolate yogurt piles. I savored each flavor. I enjoyed the mixtures of sweet, tangy and chocolatey goodness. I crunch the peanut butter cups and make them blend with the other flavors already in my mouth. And I taste them all. Enjoying each spoonful and flavor as they make my senses come alive. In this moment, I am happy.

Today this exercise in mindfulness has reminded me of how important it is to enjoy the many flavors of life, and to remember to appreciate them. And Today,  I am grateful, I got my "taste" back.

Hair Today, Gone Yesterday

7-18-13

Brushing my hair. I love the way it feels when the bristles touch my scalp. Running my fingers through the strands, feeling like silk threads. I'm grateful for my hair. How it feels on the back of my neck and on my shoulders.

I remember how it felt to lose it. How cold my head was and how ugly I felt. I remember the tears and how I avoided the mirror. I couldn't touch it. My fingers were numb from the chemo. Each day I lost more and more until it was all gone. I tried ice packs and put on a cap to try to stop it. But lost it all. Who was that person? 

One night I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror and scared myself: bald head, sunken eyes, dark circles. Was it a zombie? Was it an intruder? No...it was me. I cried and cried. I lost myself. Who is that person?

But today,  I have hair. Beautiful soft hair that still makes me cry when I brush it. But only because  I remember that girl that lost her hair. She was so sad. Now when i look close I can still see her; there she is, looking right back at me. She is in my eyes. But now she's not afraid. Because she is me, now. 

Today, I am grateful for my hair.