One of the “minor” side effects of both radiation and
chemotherapy is the loss of one’s sense of taste.
Well, not so much “loss.” More of a horrible transformation.
I had one of my favorite Japanese dishes recently: ahiru donburi, strips of grilled duck
and bits of scallion scattered in a bowl of rice. Delicious! But a bit – hem – metallic.
Then wheat bread began to taste like cigarette ashes.
I tried a McDonald’s hamburger and fries recently. The fries
were perfectly inedible, like pieces of uncooked leather. The burger tasted as
if it had been marinated in Clorox.
Meat’s not good anymore, nor is bread.
What’s left? Chocolate pudding. Frozen yogurt. Lemonade. Soup.
Rice Chex. Cheerios. Grape Nuts. Marshmallow Peeps! Mashed potatoes.
I told this to Apollonia, who was philosophical. “Take a
lesson from Robocop,” she said. “Robocop ate a rudimentary paste.”
“A what?”
“A rudimentary paste,” she said carefully. “And now that’s
what you’re going to have to eat too.”
“I wish I were Robocop right now,” I said. “I know what I’d
do.”
“Calm yourself,” Apollonia said severely. “That’s the
chemotherapy talking.”
So: anyone for some nice rudimentary paste?
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