Continuing on the theme of emotional issues, on reflection, I have had a lot to deal with this week.
The onset of some serious pain on Monday and Tuesday night was not something that I particularly want to occur on a regular basis though thankfully I retired last night both without pain and without taking pain killers.
On a more relevant note the major event this week is the realisation that I cannot eat "properly" anymore. Kitten has stocked up on some easy to eat foodstuffs - yesterday I sat down to very small pasta shells in a heavy carbonara sauce, which was manageable. The downside is that it is not just a matter of restriction but that eating or drinking anything is now quite a painful experience, due to the side effects of the radiotherapy.
I can cope with that but I don't like my children to see me wincing with pain when I am eating. It is now obvious to them that I am struggling at meal times and they are used to a father who takes the lead at the dinner table, always eating his food and usually the first to finish (though I don't hold the latter as a merit).
These are things that we will have to adjust to as a family but I don't think that any father relishes the prospect of showing signs of weakness to his children.
On a brighter note, humility has been a theme that has popped up a few times on my blog and I guess that I no longer need to be hostage to it. What do I base this on? Well in the early 90's Big G and I went to watch Ireland vs Wales in Dublin. At the time both teams were poor and they were playing to avoid the "wooden spoon". We were staying with Big G's parents and I arrogantly proclaimed that we would beat the Irish comfortably. I was wrong.
When I got home Big G's dad served me a whole pie, which he described as a "humble pie" and it was served with a big wooden spoon to eat it with. Even though I was uncomfortable with Wales' loss I was still very appreciative of the humour and was happy to take my medicine.
If anyone was to pull the same stunt now though, I would simply shrug my shoulders, lift my eyebrow and say
"Sorry, but I can't eat it".
Friday, 13 August 2010
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Update - Both Exoteric and Esoteric
This instalment covers a spectrum from Mad Canadians to blood transfusions.
Yesterday, I got the results of my latest blood tests and the trend of my haemoglobin levels has continued downwards.
Now that I am considerably below the preferable minimum for radiotherapy (actual 11 vs minimum 12) there is no alternative but to having a blood transfusion.
I cannot put forward a logical argument for not having one but, on an emotional level I just don't like the idea. Nevertheless it is the bigger picture that is important.
Given that I am not particularly happy about it the timing of the transfusion is impeccable. It will take place on my birthday next week, one day after my latest session of intravenous chemotherapy. They really know how to pile it on considering that I also had chemotherapy on my daughter's birthday but, as usual, I will shrug my shoulders and walk though it. Perhaps of greater concern is waiting that long for the transfusion with the count being low. The Marsden are looking to see if they can get an earlier appointment for me.
Given the load that is coming my way around my birthday I will be looking to celebrate quietly on Sunday to ensure that the day is free from hospital appointments and full of happiness.
So that leaves Mad Canadians. I had the pleasure of being treated by said man on what I envisage as a course of treatment. The Mad Canadian is fresh back from his family holidays in his motherland and he has embraced the wide open spaces and nature of the place. Looking suitably rejuvenated I am certainly hoping that he can pass some of that on to me.
At this stage my body is being hammered by the treatments and I feel that it is important to keep myself as vital as possible in a physical, mental and an emotional sense. My family and friend and I all help in this respect but it is also good to have assistance with someone where there is an easy rapport and where there is a variety of skill sets on hand.
The gloves are off and apart from giving my back a thorough and testy manipulation there was some digging deeper between the banter.
I feel that I am fairly adept at keeping myself on an even keel and I have a go forward approach that doesn't allow me to dwell on what is happening too much. There are, of course, moments and passages of play when I feel the gravity of what is happening. Moments can be simple things like closely shared times with the children. Those give me an instant window in what I will lose if things go "pear-shaped" on me. Then there are phases such as when I didn't know whether treatment would remain on a curative platform. These create which insecurity which is not self-induced simply because there are a number of directions that the experience could pull in, without an input or control from me.
Of course there are emotional currents that underpin these. Whilst I don't analyse or dwell on this it is obvious to the observer that they will eventually "pop out". A good example would be the back. Other than by accidental injury I have only had three occasions when my back has "gone"
The very fact that I am writing about this probably articulates that I consider these things more that most men do but it is difficult to know how to digger deeper into them more than I already do. This is what the Mad Canadian and I discussed for a while i.e. not holding onto the emotional issues which an illness like this causes.
When I am pumped full of steroids at the beginning of chemotherapy cycles I have moments when I feel outright anger but there must be a control of that because released unchecked it can be very destructive, as most know.
So I am considering channels to tap in deeper and an obvious for me is to dust down the decks and get mixing music once more. There is a connection when working with music that requires a concentration and a dynamism that is based on what you feel rather than what you think. Performance magnifies this due to the pressure that you work under, but simply exploring this therapeutic channel may pay dividends.
Then there is the poetry, which I haven't really explored for years. It accesses a deeper and more philosophical element of my thought process; slightly deeper than rugby, football, food, sex and beer, anyway.
It is difficult for me to talk about how I feel because there are only moments when the gravity of my situation stares me in the face and there is an acceptance from me that I can only do my best. So, in all honesty I do not really feel a lot, at least not on a superficial day to day level. Clearly, I am open about what is happening to me but I always believe in taking advice when it resonates with me.
With all this in mind I will be trying to find ways of engaging on a more emotional than logical level, but there is little chance of me dwelling too much, I would rather search for moments of happiness that I can share with those close to me. They are a great release in themself.
Yesterday, I got the results of my latest blood tests and the trend of my haemoglobin levels has continued downwards.
Now that I am considerably below the preferable minimum for radiotherapy (actual 11 vs minimum 12) there is no alternative but to having a blood transfusion.
I cannot put forward a logical argument for not having one but, on an emotional level I just don't like the idea. Nevertheless it is the bigger picture that is important.
Given that I am not particularly happy about it the timing of the transfusion is impeccable. It will take place on my birthday next week, one day after my latest session of intravenous chemotherapy. They really know how to pile it on considering that I also had chemotherapy on my daughter's birthday but, as usual, I will shrug my shoulders and walk though it. Perhaps of greater concern is waiting that long for the transfusion with the count being low. The Marsden are looking to see if they can get an earlier appointment for me.
Given the load that is coming my way around my birthday I will be looking to celebrate quietly on Sunday to ensure that the day is free from hospital appointments and full of happiness.
So that leaves Mad Canadians. I had the pleasure of being treated by said man on what I envisage as a course of treatment. The Mad Canadian is fresh back from his family holidays in his motherland and he has embraced the wide open spaces and nature of the place. Looking suitably rejuvenated I am certainly hoping that he can pass some of that on to me.
At this stage my body is being hammered by the treatments and I feel that it is important to keep myself as vital as possible in a physical, mental and an emotional sense. My family and friend and I all help in this respect but it is also good to have assistance with someone where there is an easy rapport and where there is a variety of skill sets on hand.
The gloves are off and apart from giving my back a thorough and testy manipulation there was some digging deeper between the banter.
I feel that I am fairly adept at keeping myself on an even keel and I have a go forward approach that doesn't allow me to dwell on what is happening too much. There are, of course, moments and passages of play when I feel the gravity of what is happening. Moments can be simple things like closely shared times with the children. Those give me an instant window in what I will lose if things go "pear-shaped" on me. Then there are phases such as when I didn't know whether treatment would remain on a curative platform. These create which insecurity which is not self-induced simply because there are a number of directions that the experience could pull in, without an input or control from me.
Of course there are emotional currents that underpin these. Whilst I don't analyse or dwell on this it is obvious to the observer that they will eventually "pop out". A good example would be the back. Other than by accidental injury I have only had three occasions when my back has "gone"
- The first was on a day when an ex-partner came pick up the rest of her stuff from my place on the same day as my parents moved back to Wales for good
- The second was near the beginning of this current process
- The third was a couple of weeks ago on that day of madness where the projected treatment was all over the place but ended up being my first day of radiotherapy and a new cycle if chemotherapy
The very fact that I am writing about this probably articulates that I consider these things more that most men do but it is difficult to know how to digger deeper into them more than I already do. This is what the Mad Canadian and I discussed for a while i.e. not holding onto the emotional issues which an illness like this causes.
When I am pumped full of steroids at the beginning of chemotherapy cycles I have moments when I feel outright anger but there must be a control of that because released unchecked it can be very destructive, as most know.
So I am considering channels to tap in deeper and an obvious for me is to dust down the decks and get mixing music once more. There is a connection when working with music that requires a concentration and a dynamism that is based on what you feel rather than what you think. Performance magnifies this due to the pressure that you work under, but simply exploring this therapeutic channel may pay dividends.
Then there is the poetry, which I haven't really explored for years. It accesses a deeper and more philosophical element of my thought process; slightly deeper than rugby, football, food, sex and beer, anyway.
It is difficult for me to talk about how I feel because there are only moments when the gravity of my situation stares me in the face and there is an acceptance from me that I can only do my best. So, in all honesty I do not really feel a lot, at least not on a superficial day to day level. Clearly, I am open about what is happening to me but I always believe in taking advice when it resonates with me.
With all this in mind I will be trying to find ways of engaging on a more emotional than logical level, but there is little chance of me dwelling too much, I would rather search for moments of happiness that I can share with those close to me. They are a great release in themself.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
An Air of Stillness
Thankfully my approach last night of taking some pain killers before my chemotherapy tabets paid dividends in handsome fashion. There was no repeat performance of the previous two nights and I was able to get a good night's sleep. Most refreshing!
Also, last night I managed to drag myself from the sofa and get out in the garden and do the usual Chi-Kung practice. This was good both from a physical and mental perspective. Mentally, getting out there for thirty minutes and performing disciplined and routine exercise is a good way of helping me to rise out of the situation.
The rain was hammering down for most of yesterday and the time I chose to go out offered a pleasant surprise because there was a complete air of stillness about the night. There wasn't the slightest whiff of breeze an the whole landscape looked like a silhouette with the heavy cloud adding to the effect set against the vague remnants of light.
Such an atmosphere is soothing, relaxing and peaceful and is just what the doctor ordered.
Although different, the experience reminded me of a time when I watched Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream in the open air of Regent's Park. There was a moment during the performance where Paula Wilcox (of Man about The House notoriety) was performing a soliloquy and I noticed a rustle of the trees before a complete blanket of stillness descended as if there was a transition from day to night. Like as if night had parachuted in.
Shortly after I wrote the following poem, which is written through the spirit of (the eyes of) the night and its descent.
Also, last night I managed to drag myself from the sofa and get out in the garden and do the usual Chi-Kung practice. This was good both from a physical and mental perspective. Mentally, getting out there for thirty minutes and performing disciplined and routine exercise is a good way of helping me to rise out of the situation.
The rain was hammering down for most of yesterday and the time I chose to go out offered a pleasant surprise because there was a complete air of stillness about the night. There wasn't the slightest whiff of breeze an the whole landscape looked like a silhouette with the heavy cloud adding to the effect set against the vague remnants of light.
Such an atmosphere is soothing, relaxing and peaceful and is just what the doctor ordered.
Although different, the experience reminded me of a time when I watched Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream in the open air of Regent's Park. There was a moment during the performance where Paula Wilcox (of Man about The House notoriety) was performing a soliloquy and I noticed a rustle of the trees before a complete blanket of stillness descended as if there was a transition from day to night. Like as if night had parachuted in.
Shortly after I wrote the following poem, which is written through the spirit of (the eyes of) the night and its descent.
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Pro-Active Pain Management
Apart from generally easing back I am going to take some other measures before I see a consultant on Thursday.
I am quite capable of absorbing some pain but what I have had to take on board the last couple of nights was no fun.
I am not one to reach for the pain-killers unnecessarily, I have a simple logic that says that the less you use them the more effective they will be.
In these circumstances I am inclined to make an exception and I will take some pain killers in advance of taking my daily chemotherapy tablets. The radiographers seemed to think that the pain is likely to be caused by these tablets in conjunction with the radiotherapy.
Otherwise, "it's all quiet on the Western Front". I am going into work tomorrow at least until lunchtime and whilst I am up in town I have an appointment with the Mad Canadian osteopath who should be freshly invigorated by his trip to his homeland.
I am quite capable of absorbing some pain but what I have had to take on board the last couple of nights was no fun.
I am not one to reach for the pain-killers unnecessarily, I have a simple logic that says that the less you use them the more effective they will be.
In these circumstances I am inclined to make an exception and I will take some pain killers in advance of taking my daily chemotherapy tablets. The radiographers seemed to think that the pain is likely to be caused by these tablets in conjunction with the radiotherapy.
Otherwise, "it's all quiet on the Western Front". I am going into work tomorrow at least until lunchtime and whilst I am up in town I have an appointment with the Mad Canadian osteopath who should be freshly invigorated by his trip to his homeland.
There's Many A True Word Spoken in Jest
One of mine and Notoplip's jokes is rather crude. The image is that at some point the cancer will have me on my hands and knees bleeding out of a particular orifice!
Not a pleasant image and up until recent events I have got away remarkably lightly. However, I found myself reduced to my hands and knees for the second night on the trot, though thankfully spared the other element.
In some ways it is a relief that something is actually happening. Of course, it is better to think that what I have is movement, disturbance effected by the treatment rather than anything more sinister.
The dragon has awoken and it is rather pissed off that its cave is flooded with chemotherapy drugs and it is being subjected to a radiotherapy disco light show.
Dance dragon dance, because life isn't going to get any easier for you.
That said I don't think that it it is going to get any easier for me in the medium term, but as I have always said, I don't care if the end result is right. It not much fun when swallowing the pain killers intensifies the pain further, but eventually they do their job enough for me to get to sleep.
There's a sense that suffering is an integral part of the journey, but it is something I have recently planned for both at home and at work. It has just all come at once.
Definitely time to ease back.
Not a pleasant image and up until recent events I have got away remarkably lightly. However, I found myself reduced to my hands and knees for the second night on the trot, though thankfully spared the other element.
In some ways it is a relief that something is actually happening. Of course, it is better to think that what I have is movement, disturbance effected by the treatment rather than anything more sinister.
The dragon has awoken and it is rather pissed off that its cave is flooded with chemotherapy drugs and it is being subjected to a radiotherapy disco light show.
Dance dragon dance, because life isn't going to get any easier for you.
That said I don't think that it it is going to get any easier for me in the medium term, but as I have always said, I don't care if the end result is right. It not much fun when swallowing the pain killers intensifies the pain further, but eventually they do their job enough for me to get to sleep.
There's a sense that suffering is an integral part of the journey, but it is something I have recently planned for both at home and at work. It has just all come at once.
Definitely time to ease back.
Monday, 9 August 2010
Tricky, Tricky, Tricky
A happy birthday to my sister "Tricky Crow". Apart from being my sister of some two years and ten days longer standing than me, she is my only other close relative living in England.
Kitten has just come back from Tricky Crow and Dumbledore's having dropped off a bottle of wine and a card. This is something that I had planned to do myself but I am afraid that I have been hit by the proverbial "lump hammer".
Not only was I up in the early hours in severe pain but there was plenty more dished out today, though not to the same high quality standards. It has been rather more like I have just taken a good beating. I shall have to have a word with the pain committee to see why they eased off the gas.
Eating has become more difficult too. Tonight I just had rice and mince but it was painful to digest and that I think is definitely courtesy of the radiotherapy, so at least it is busily doing something!
I've also been very tired so I have spent a good part of the evening snoozing.
There seems to be a pattern of a lot of things coming together once again repeating itself, which I have said is not unusual for me. The previous blog entry about overdoing it a little will no doubt have played its only part in the process. I will just continue to rest and see where we head tomorrow.
Moan over :-)
Kitten has just come back from Tricky Crow and Dumbledore's having dropped off a bottle of wine and a card. This is something that I had planned to do myself but I am afraid that I have been hit by the proverbial "lump hammer".
Not only was I up in the early hours in severe pain but there was plenty more dished out today, though not to the same high quality standards. It has been rather more like I have just taken a good beating. I shall have to have a word with the pain committee to see why they eased off the gas.
Eating has become more difficult too. Tonight I just had rice and mince but it was painful to digest and that I think is definitely courtesy of the radiotherapy, so at least it is busily doing something!
I've also been very tired so I have spent a good part of the evening snoozing.
There seems to be a pattern of a lot of things coming together once again repeating itself, which I have said is not unusual for me. The previous blog entry about overdoing it a little will no doubt have played its only part in the process. I will just continue to rest and see where we head tomorrow.
Moan over :-)
Overdoing it Just a Little
I had a pretty full week last week and it came back to haunt me just a little.
Yesterday morning I got up feeling OK, but not having slept that well. Just as we were ready to leave for the football at Wembley I started to feel tired an a little drained.
In normal circumstances I would have looked after myself and taken myself off for a rest, but when you have a six year old son ready for his first trip to see his favourite team at Wembley that course of action is not something that really comes on the radar.
The journey up to Wembley is not testing and we got there in plenty of time, it is the coming back that gets a little tricky with 85,000 leaving the stadium. We did our best to avoid the mayhem by hanging back a little.
So a defeat for Chelsea, but we had primed the boys to recognise that this was not the most important of matches and that it was the day out and the chance to see football at Wembley that was the main issue.
We had a great day out with Notoplip and his son Sonic, but I paid for it in the night.
I have not had too much trouble with pain from the cancer, but I do know that when I don't pull back on the warning signs of tiredness that it is ready for me. It's a bit like the Greek myth as articulated in Clash of the Titans and the cry of "Release the Kraken" as Hades (god of the underworld) releases his beast.
If only I had Medusa's head to turn this thing to stone.
Suffice to say that when the Kraken is released the pain is pretty devastating. The funny thing is that I am now findign it difficult to swallow my tablets which are all rather large. So it is quite comical that there I am doubled up but at the same time psyching myself up to endure worse pain caused by trying to get the pain killers down in the midst of the madness.
I can laugh because once the painkillers are in there I can get to sleep and that is a perfect remedy. Knowing that something is temporary makes it easy to deal with in the head. I hope that I don't lose that luxury.
So I am going to back off and take it easy today and relax in the knowledge that my son is quite a lucky little fella. He made it to Wales' Millennium stadium when he was four and again a year later. He has now been to England's stadium too.
Yesterday morning I got up feeling OK, but not having slept that well. Just as we were ready to leave for the football at Wembley I started to feel tired an a little drained.
In normal circumstances I would have looked after myself and taken myself off for a rest, but when you have a six year old son ready for his first trip to see his favourite team at Wembley that course of action is not something that really comes on the radar.
The journey up to Wembley is not testing and we got there in plenty of time, it is the coming back that gets a little tricky with 85,000 leaving the stadium. We did our best to avoid the mayhem by hanging back a little.
So a defeat for Chelsea, but we had primed the boys to recognise that this was not the most important of matches and that it was the day out and the chance to see football at Wembley that was the main issue.
We had a great day out with Notoplip and his son Sonic, but I paid for it in the night.
I have not had too much trouble with pain from the cancer, but I do know that when I don't pull back on the warning signs of tiredness that it is ready for me. It's a bit like the Greek myth as articulated in Clash of the Titans and the cry of "Release the Kraken" as Hades (god of the underworld) releases his beast.
If only I had Medusa's head to turn this thing to stone.
Suffice to say that when the Kraken is released the pain is pretty devastating. The funny thing is that I am now findign it difficult to swallow my tablets which are all rather large. So it is quite comical that there I am doubled up but at the same time psyching myself up to endure worse pain caused by trying to get the pain killers down in the midst of the madness.
I can laugh because once the painkillers are in there I can get to sleep and that is a perfect remedy. Knowing that something is temporary makes it easy to deal with in the head. I hope that I don't lose that luxury.
So I am going to back off and take it easy today and relax in the knowledge that my son is quite a lucky little fella. He made it to Wales' Millennium stadium when he was four and again a year later. He has now been to England's stadium too.
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Normal Stuff
It would be easy to get a picture of me living a life of illness because it is the illness that is the purpose of this blog, but that simply isn't the case.
The treatment has been ramped up and a quick glance at the blog's appointment page for August will give an immediate impression.
Despite that I still put in a decent working week, being active everyday and making it into the office for parts of three of the five days. On the other days I was grateful for extra time that he omission of travel affords and was able to focus on the more technical aspects of what I do.
This weekend I took Boogle ice-skating whilst Kitten took Huffty to his football. I have got Boogle back into lessons, which she thoroughly enjoys and there is the added bonus that our normal ice rink, north of the river, is back open for business. I think I may need to step up my exercise regime a little as I was huffing and puffing in no time at all.
Yesterday we also all sat down as a family and watched a film encouraging chants of "Blu Ray, Blu Ray" from Huffty and I as we get in the spirit for today. Although Kitten felt the addition of home cinema equipment to frivolous I think that she really enjoys it when we all sit down for a film.
The kids are out this morning with Kitten at a play area but Huffy and I will be Wembley bound with Notoplip and Sonic at lunchtime. We are off to what is supposed to be the football season "curtain-raiser" Community Shield between Chelsea (Winners of the Premiership and FA Cup) against Manchester Utd (Premiership Runners-up).
This will be Huffty's first visit to Wembley though he has already been to Wales' Millennium Stadium for rugby internationals.
The treatment has been ramped up and a quick glance at the blog's appointment page for August will give an immediate impression.
Despite that I still put in a decent working week, being active everyday and making it into the office for parts of three of the five days. On the other days I was grateful for extra time that he omission of travel affords and was able to focus on the more technical aspects of what I do.
This weekend I took Boogle ice-skating whilst Kitten took Huffty to his football. I have got Boogle back into lessons, which she thoroughly enjoys and there is the added bonus that our normal ice rink, north of the river, is back open for business. I think I may need to step up my exercise regime a little as I was huffing and puffing in no time at all.
Yesterday we also all sat down as a family and watched a film encouraging chants of "Blu Ray, Blu Ray" from Huffty and I as we get in the spirit for today. Although Kitten felt the addition of home cinema equipment to frivolous I think that she really enjoys it when we all sit down for a film.
The kids are out this morning with Kitten at a play area but Huffy and I will be Wembley bound with Notoplip and Sonic at lunchtime. We are off to what is supposed to be the football season "curtain-raiser" Community Shield between Chelsea (Winners of the Premiership and FA Cup) against Manchester Utd (Premiership Runners-up).
This will be Huffty's first visit to Wembley though he has already been to Wales' Millennium Stadium for rugby internationals.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Modifying the Diet - Simple Stuff and Nutty Roasts
As I said, I have been having trouble getting my food down.
Whilst I am now having trouble with even simple food stuffs it should also be acknowledged that I have not really compromised my general habits.
The writing has been on the wall for this approach over the last week as I have been using fizzy drinks to aid the process. They seem to shift the food much easier than other liquids but are not really an answer because a diet of fizzy drinks is not a good diet.
The Marsden advised pureed food but, at this stage, that seems like a hammer to crack a nut.
So I am starting to give the process some thought and am enlisting the help of others too.
I am not a stranger to understanding foods as I read widely on the subject in my late teens and twenties when I was a gym regular. There is also a lot of dietary knowledge in the family due to the widely experienced coeliac issue and Cymraes' interest in healing arts. Kitten is also good on the subject.
I can make simple and immediate adjustments too.
Much of my diet revolves around poultry; chicken being a particular favourite. It is a simple but nutritious source of protein and is low and fat and goes well with lots of other components. It is, however, difficult to get down so it goes out and fish comes in.
I am not a great fish eater but eat the simple stuff like salmon, mackerel, haddock and cod and there is plenty of room for me to take on other sources.
Diary is, of course, an easy source of nutrition and also easy to digest.
There are many simple ways in which the diet can be rebalanced. One of the avenues open to me is the vegetarian route.
Before mother's and her brother Gandalf family had to resort to coeliac diets, which are very restrictive, they were vegetarians. My sister was also vegetarian for a number of years.
Whilst that provided a source of amusement to me, I was not dismissive of it. Rather, I used to enjoy the benefit of some of the better dishes. I had some particular favourites, one of which is nutritious, smash full of calories and easy to get down - at least I imagine it to be when cooked well because it is very moist.
Courtesy of Cymraes and because Big G expressed an interest I am putting the recipe up here, which might be considered an interesting departure from my normal "BS".
Kitten may be surprised if I start making myself handy around the kitchen and I am not entirely sure that she will be as pleased as she makes out. Watch this space
Here's is Cymraes' nut roast recipe (though I am not sure where she got it from) - For the record I often used to eat it at the same time that I ate a steak. That was when I was young and greedy. The liberal application of bread crumbs means that she cannot eat it anymore - awwwwwwwww
Nut roast recipe:
8oz ground cashew nuts or 1/2 walnuts
4oz fresh breadcrumbs
4oz finally chopped onion
1oz butter
1 clove of garlic
1/4 pint milk
1/2 teaspoon finely chopped herbs (thyme or oregano or marjoram)
Salt & black pepper
FILLING
4oz finely chopped onion
8oz of shredded red pepper
1oz butter
4oz grated Edam cheese
1 beaten egg
METHOD
Mix nuts & breadcrumbs
Fry onion in butter & add garlic & fry
Take out of pan, add to the nut & crumb mix
Beat egg with milk & herbs, salt & pepper
Pour into nut & crumb mix
FILLING
Fry onion & pepper in butter, season & remove from heat
Add cheese & enough beaten egg to bind (all stringy)
Put half nut mix into a greased 1lb loaf tin
Add layer of filling, spreading evenly
Add rest of nut mix & bake on about 180-200c electric for 30-40 minutes.
Test by using a knife
Whilst I am now having trouble with even simple food stuffs it should also be acknowledged that I have not really compromised my general habits.
The writing has been on the wall for this approach over the last week as I have been using fizzy drinks to aid the process. They seem to shift the food much easier than other liquids but are not really an answer because a diet of fizzy drinks is not a good diet.
The Marsden advised pureed food but, at this stage, that seems like a hammer to crack a nut.
So I am starting to give the process some thought and am enlisting the help of others too.
I am not a stranger to understanding foods as I read widely on the subject in my late teens and twenties when I was a gym regular. There is also a lot of dietary knowledge in the family due to the widely experienced coeliac issue and Cymraes' interest in healing arts. Kitten is also good on the subject.
I can make simple and immediate adjustments too.
Much of my diet revolves around poultry; chicken being a particular favourite. It is a simple but nutritious source of protein and is low and fat and goes well with lots of other components. It is, however, difficult to get down so it goes out and fish comes in.
I am not a great fish eater but eat the simple stuff like salmon, mackerel, haddock and cod and there is plenty of room for me to take on other sources.
Diary is, of course, an easy source of nutrition and also easy to digest.
There are many simple ways in which the diet can be rebalanced. One of the avenues open to me is the vegetarian route.
Before mother's and her brother Gandalf family had to resort to coeliac diets, which are very restrictive, they were vegetarians. My sister was also vegetarian for a number of years.
Whilst that provided a source of amusement to me, I was not dismissive of it. Rather, I used to enjoy the benefit of some of the better dishes. I had some particular favourites, one of which is nutritious, smash full of calories and easy to get down - at least I imagine it to be when cooked well because it is very moist.
Courtesy of Cymraes and because Big G expressed an interest I am putting the recipe up here, which might be considered an interesting departure from my normal "BS".
Kitten may be surprised if I start making myself handy around the kitchen and I am not entirely sure that she will be as pleased as she makes out. Watch this space
Here's is Cymraes' nut roast recipe (though I am not sure where she got it from) - For the record I often used to eat it at the same time that I ate a steak. That was when I was young and greedy. The liberal application of bread crumbs means that she cannot eat it anymore - awwwwwwwww
Nut roast recipe:
8oz ground cashew nuts or 1/2 walnuts
4oz fresh breadcrumbs
4oz finally chopped onion
1oz butter
1 clove of garlic
1/4 pint milk
1/2 teaspoon finely chopped herbs (thyme or oregano or marjoram)
Salt & black pepper
FILLING
4oz finely chopped onion
8oz of shredded red pepper
1oz butter
4oz grated Edam cheese
1 beaten egg
METHOD
Mix nuts & breadcrumbs
Fry onion in butter & add garlic & fry
Take out of pan, add to the nut & crumb mix
Beat egg with milk & herbs, salt & pepper
Pour into nut & crumb mix
FILLING
Fry onion & pepper in butter, season & remove from heat
Add cheese & enough beaten egg to bind (all stringy)
Put half nut mix into a greased 1lb loaf tin
Add layer of filling, spreading evenly
Add rest of nut mix & bake on about 180-200c electric for 30-40 minutes.
Test by using a knife
About the Journey
At very close to six months since official diagnosis and a further two or three months since I started to feel ill this period of my life can now be considered a journey in its own right.
It is important to realise that I accept the illness as part of my life rather than being some malicious external force that I am battling against. This perspective allows me to continue to enjoy life on a day by day basis rather than constantly wishing it away focusing on a day when I am better.
It is difficult to find a decent analogy to explain the journey but a good one may be as if I have found myself in a pot hole.
I am alone in the pot hole but I have communication with family, friends and underground experts. There is much advice, help and encouragement but nobody knows whether the pot hole actually leads back to the surface because this is the first time that it has been travelled. Furthermore, there are junctions at which the journey presents options in direction and nobody knows which direction is the best.
For all of the collective experience this is a unique journey and, once accepted that is where I am, it is a beautiful journey of self discovery every bit as much as walking in the Andes or sailing on the Amazon. There are times when I am on my belly inching forwards on my belly taking in mouthfuls of water but, equally, there are times when I arrive in huge multi-coloured caves of light and wonder, which have not been seen before. The key to my journey is that there has to be an acceptance that it may end in a dead end.
This is no different to life itself where there are no guarantees for everyone. I was chatting with Sam the Eagle over a drink a few nights ago and he said that when I am crossing a road he feels protective towards me, wanting to make sure that I don't get run over and ruin my chances of recovery. I mention this because it brings into focus that there is risk and danger for us all every day.
Sam the Eagle's mind set is a little different to Notoplip who says that he is going to wait for me on the day that I get the all clear. He is going to sit in a high powered car outside the hospital and just as I come out in jubilant fashion he is going to drive the car as fast as he can and flatten me!
I appreciate both points of view for what they are and it is up to me to enjoy the journey on the way.
Sam, I'll show you a picture of Notoplip so you can shoot him whilst he revs his engine. Don't kill him because I want to be able to share the joke with him whilst he is in hospital with all tubes sticking out of him. I will lean over and gently whisper in his ear, "don't worry mate. Everything will be OK"
It is important to realise that I accept the illness as part of my life rather than being some malicious external force that I am battling against. This perspective allows me to continue to enjoy life on a day by day basis rather than constantly wishing it away focusing on a day when I am better.
It is difficult to find a decent analogy to explain the journey but a good one may be as if I have found myself in a pot hole.
I am alone in the pot hole but I have communication with family, friends and underground experts. There is much advice, help and encouragement but nobody knows whether the pot hole actually leads back to the surface because this is the first time that it has been travelled. Furthermore, there are junctions at which the journey presents options in direction and nobody knows which direction is the best.
For all of the collective experience this is a unique journey and, once accepted that is where I am, it is a beautiful journey of self discovery every bit as much as walking in the Andes or sailing on the Amazon. There are times when I am on my belly inching forwards on my belly taking in mouthfuls of water but, equally, there are times when I arrive in huge multi-coloured caves of light and wonder, which have not been seen before. The key to my journey is that there has to be an acceptance that it may end in a dead end.
This is no different to life itself where there are no guarantees for everyone. I was chatting with Sam the Eagle over a drink a few nights ago and he said that when I am crossing a road he feels protective towards me, wanting to make sure that I don't get run over and ruin my chances of recovery. I mention this because it brings into focus that there is risk and danger for us all every day.
Sam the Eagle's mind set is a little different to Notoplip who says that he is going to wait for me on the day that I get the all clear. He is going to sit in a high powered car outside the hospital and just as I come out in jubilant fashion he is going to drive the car as fast as he can and flatten me!
I appreciate both points of view for what they are and it is up to me to enjoy the journey on the way.
Sam, I'll show you a picture of Notoplip so you can shoot him whilst he revs his engine. Don't kill him because I want to be able to share the joke with him whilst he is in hospital with all tubes sticking out of him. I will lean over and gently whisper in his ear, "don't worry mate. Everything will be OK"
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