The Last Breakfast

I had an early morning appointment for radiation and then in the late afternoon a meeting with the oncologist for chemotherapy. It was getting more and more difficult to eat “real” foods, so I thought I would treat myself to the breakfast buffet at the Sheraton down the street from the hospital. The sausage links are great there.

The good drugs for pain and nausea slowly kicked in. The ativan started to mellow me out and the vicoden started to smooth over the hard spots. Good drugs for both pain and nausea and careful swallowing make for a great breakfast.

I watch others wolf down the food – rashers of bacon and links by the score without thought of savor. Whole glasses of orange juice are thrown back in one gulp; far, far too little time to even taste the acrid oranges.

I sip the coffee and let it slide past the cancer. I can savor the flavors – bitter coffee gentled by cream. Each flavor plays on my tongue as it gently slips by the lesion that pretends to be the sentinel to my entire system. Another mouthful excites the entire mouth as it drips slowly past that indiscriminate sentinel.

To be so indiscriminate it has to be male. It has to be cajoled. To just send something down to him cannot be done – he rejects everything and sends it right back. But if I work diligently and tease him with minuscule samples, anything can get past him. Strawberries from California are firm and sweet, just the ticket to cleanse the palate.

I eat slowly. More than any other patron. A medium breakfast – one egg, 1 slice of toast, 2 sausage, two bacon – take more than an hour and a half. I savor every moment of the meal. Little do I know this will be the last “real” food I am able to eat for months. Chemotherapy and radiation play havoc with taste buds and blisters prevent swallowing more than water.

A simple meal has taught me many lessons, the most important being to relish every moment we have. Months later – still unable to to swallow more than apple sauce, my memory returns to that breakfast at the Sheraton and the time when I again will have that same enjoyment. I have been promised….

2 Responses to “The Last Breakfast”

  1. The Last Breakfast « CrackerBoy Says:

    […] 9, 2008 by Bill The Last Breakfast « Anything Under the Sun I had an early morning appointment for radiation and then in the late afternoon a meeting with the […]

  2. Bill Says:

    It took me more than three years to come back to this page, knowing as I did that I would find nothing new.

    Namaste, RashiMa. I hope your every meal is savory, and that you are wolfing down as much as you want. I really miss your wisdom, your stories, and your friendship.


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