Eating, the Aftermath

So, here is the aftermath and the final word from me on the subject (for now). Even when it seems like the end of the world, it is not. Remember that I had my surgery in October of 2005, more than five years ago (followed by chemo and rads), and am only now, for whatever reason (and I sincerely do not know why) getting it back together, it seems.

Patience is a virtue, it is said, and in this case, it rests its case for me.

I cannot begin to explain the frustration that my wife and I endured, that my entire family endured, as I tried to eat in the past, the missed meals, the missed celebrations, the gaggings, the horrendous throat clearings, the dire attempts by loved ones close and afar to find something that would pass through what was my apparently narrow gateway to nirvana.

Trust me: they tried. My wife, bless her, has done every possible thing to find things that I can eat. And largely failed in the past. My family has sent recipe after recipe. Our friends have made sure to include something, at every venue I DID venture to attend, that I might eat.

Usually, all, in failure. My failure. And that only made it harder and harder to get back on the proverbial saddle, to ride again, especially in the public rodeo. It is so easy under those circumstances to shun the picnics, the parties, the grand affairs, and it is SO much easier for the wife (or hub as the case may be) to finally accept your denial, your refusal, and to go without you, until, finally, as my wife has pointed out to me: Your friends have not left you; you have left your friends.

It is so. It was so. I never stopped loving them, of course. I am not made that way. But I left them. At some point, inadvertently, I left them. The food thing. The social part of food. And so cancer ran me away from them even when I didn't mean for it to happen.

Cancer is like that, and I try to tell people that: cancer will take more than it is designed biologically to take if you let it.

I let it.

Fortunately, friends are stronger than cancer, and, certainly, family is stronger than cancer. Mine, anyway.

In the meantime, again, I cannot, despite my furious analysis, figure out exactly why I am eating again, eating so well, relatively speaking.

I bring it to your attention only to give you hope. There was a time when I really thought I would never eat steak again. I now know that it will happen (I don't count prime rib ).

It will happen.

Not only that but, while they are all still eating faster than me, I am now watching the clock...and I am not yet Usain Bolt, but I am getting faster .

Take care, my friends.