Bacon Cancer

A weekend of napping has done me good and I’m grateful to all who’ve stepped up to help after my little on-blog nervous breakdown. I’m looking forward to getting lots done this week. Never a dull moment, I’m starting to get sore from radiation and the expensive radiation burn cream I mail ordered may or may not be the cause of the itchy, bumpy, yucky rash on my chest. I don’t think it’s from the radiation... they’re not doing that area and it shouldn’t cause a rash, but I’ll see the radiologist on Tuesday.

I keep chuckling about the best part of going for coffee with my rads girls, the lovely women I met in the radiation wating room. We gabbed like crazy because my god, there are some things you just can’t talk about with anyone and it’s so good to hear about other people’s experience in this surreal dimension in which we dwell. I don’t know if “good” is the word, or “cathartic” or “beneficial”, it’s just desirable, I suppose, and helpful in intangible ways. We jumped maniacially from one topic to the next, two of us did shots of wheatgrass juice, yes, I’m reduced to green shots now. We talked about diet and what we could eat during chemo {varied widely}, foods we like but don’t eat anymore or don’t like anymore, dry mouth and dead taste buds and one woman, I can’t remember the context in which this came up, mentioned that she doesn’t like bacon, never really has.

One innoculous statement can change your life, because there’s been a little part of me that was convinced I’d given myself bacon cancer. Bacon is my favorite really-bad-for-you food. If I go out to breakfast, I get bacon and eggs, my favorite comfort meal is pasta with bacon and sundried tomatoes, sure it’s great with olives instead of bacon, but bacon is the king of tasty treats. And sure, I’m well aware of how bad it is for you... pork some say is a cancer culprit, and animal fat, chemicals, all those nitrates... So I’ve been feeling guilty about every piece of bacon I’ve ever eaten in my life, but no more... because Ms. X has TNBC and doesn’t eat bacon. Phew, what a relief. I know at this point it’s to be avoided, but I will still eat occassional bacon without feeling I’m committing suicide. Life is indeed short and sometimes it needs vermicelli with bacon.