The call of M

It's become a ritual. On the Wednesday after chemo, when I think my tastebuds are making a reappearance, I go through the McDonald's drive-thru and get myself breakfast. I know it's not good for me and my ever-shrinking waistline, but it is good for my spirits.

The practice started the chemo after my surgery, at the end of June. I was having gastrointestinal issues and my body needed a greasy boost. I could hear the sausage mcmuffin with egg, hashbrowns and coffee calling me across the kilometres from Dundas Street, so I succumbed to their greasy goodness. (Yes, it does help with the issues.)

This morning marks my fourth post-chemo Wednesday McDonald's breakfast, and boy was it good. I don't know if it's psychological now, but I feel I'm starting on the upswing when I can enjoy the crispy hashbrowns, savour the spicy sausage and sip the steaming java.

I woke this morning afraid my side effects would be worse today because yesterday wasn't quite as bad as previous Tuesdays, but so far, so good. Last night my feet and legs were killing me, but I expected that and took my pain killers. I also experienced the tiredness and chemo-injected hot flashes, but they wasn't quite as bad. Or maybe I've (sadly) gotten used to it.

Perhaps it was the activity surrounding the first day of school or that Michael was home to keep me company yesterday, but I didn't sink into the usual depression. It was bearable and I was able to enjoy life more this time around. Whatever the reason, I'm thankful.

I'm optimistic today will be better. I'll keep up with my Tylenol, rest and enjoy food as the metallic taste leaves me. I'll take advantage of the peace, quiet and sunshine until the whirlwinds, as known as my kids, come home from school.

Tina