On Food

What do the following items have in common: Heinz tomato soup, plain toast, beans on toast, plain cheese sandwiches, custard? It may occur to you that the common denominator here is that these foods are the staples of a particularly fussy 6-year-old. You're probably right. They are also pretty much my staples at the moment. One of the side effects of treatment that I seem to be experiencing is sense-sensitivity: lights are too bright (I've been walkiing round in my sunglasses hoping people might mistake me for a celebrity rather than a weirdo); noises are too noisy; smells are really smelly; and tastes are very, very strong. The effect is weaker at breakfast and lunch, but in the evenings (i.e. after I've taken my tablets and been for a session), I can't face much food, and the food I can face is the ideal menu of a fussy 6-year-old. I've even gone off cups of tea (I used to average about 8 cups of Earl Grey a day), and I could no more drink a cup of coffee than fly to the moon! Weird.

In the time before (life is now chronologised by me into 'the time before' and 'now'), Stephen and I used to have fish for tea at least 3 or 4 times a week, and Stephen, who is a very good chef, often cooked us up sumptuous feasts of complex flavours and textures. Now, his chefing skills are being stretched by the need to make two different teas: we sit at our table, and while he has a lovely plate of food with more than two ingredients, I enjoy my Lancashire oven bottom muffin with plain Cheshire cheese. At least mine's local, I suppose. It'd be OK if I could just switch my main meals and have a bigger lunch and a smaller tea, and on some days that's exactly what I do. But on the days when I have to have lunch by 11 o'clock in the morning (see previous post about strategic lunch planning), it's oven bottom muffins all the way. Incidentally, Lancashire oven bottom muffins (see picture) are a new discovery for me - plain white rolls with a soft inside and a smooth surface - perfect for fussy 6-year-olds/me.

My aversion to strong tastes and aromas extends to cooking, but that's ok, because Stephen always thought he was head chef anyway. It also extends to clearing up (scraping dirty dishes, having to open the bin to put things in it - ugh), which is probably a bit less OK! But one of the main problems I have is the whole self-identity thing again: I like to think of myself as someone who will try anything, and there's nothing I don't like. Now, I'm a fussy 6-year-old. It's funny the things that turn out to matter! Oh well, it's only temporary - I'm confident that when I've finished my treatment I'll be back to my omnivorous self (as well as owing Stephen some major tidying-the-kitchen dues).

One last thing on the food topic: for those of you worrying about the obvious potential side effect of this diet of tomato soup and oven bottom muffins, have no fear: I'm having Weetabix with a handful of All Bran religiously every morning. In fact, today I went for straight All Bran. I won't, however, be doing that again. I think the cardboard box might taste better.