Show of hands if cancer has made you re-think your relationship to food?
Me, too. Not that I was ever an unhealthy eater. Au contraire. For the last two decades, I’ve prioritized fruits and vegetables, whole grains, healthy proteins (mostly fish, chicken, eggs), and lots of exercise. I was running 5 and 10k races, lifting weights, and I kept my weight healthy. In talking to others, I hear this story frequently: “I did everything right, yoga, ate vegetarian, meditated – and I still got cancer.” I stand 100% with you, and am truly sorry.
We do so much to bat back mortality. Skin creams, reps at the gym, another helping of kale. Green tea and running. We “beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” Like Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s famous novel, we’re looking for Daisy’s green light across the water, the one that says you’ll stay young and healthy forever. It’s as if we’re under some collective delusion that we alone will avoid the final drop off and if only we find the right combination, the right cream, the right treatment — well, we’ll be all right then. And we keep on, going on, butting against the inevitable.
Cancer mocks that. Cancer is a skeleton who knocks on the door and refuses to leave. Cancer says, “Whatever,” shrugs and smirks at the next helping of broccoli. But I do it anyway, eat better anyway. It’s the one thing I can control, one of the few parts of the radar blip where I can say: “I’m here. I’m going there.” The shadow side of this is that some people, and I’ve met a few – who become so obsessed with food and unproven cancer cures that it borders on an eating disorder. (Steve Jobs’ decision to follow elements of the Gonzales regimen, to include coffee enemas and taking an enzyme from pigs, may have contributed to his shorter life span.) But there is one, emerging practice that seems to be supported by scientific research, and it’s a big reason why I’m writing this post today. It’s about fasting.
- Fasting-Like Diet May Turn the Immune System Against Cancer
- Fasting Might Boost Cancer Busting (Scientific American)
I’ve decided to do a modified, 24-hour fast prior to chemotherapy, and a 12-hour fast after my infusion. Fasting for 48 hours prior – the recommendation for chemo – is too much of a stretch for me, and even now, heading into 20 hours of no food, I am beginning to dream of cakes, pasta piles, cream cheese frosting, sushi, and banana splits. My body is screaming for carbs. I’ve been poring through recipe magazines and books and staring at the butter sauces, pancakes, battered fried prawns.
And cake. Did I say cake?
I am going to bake this cake tomorrow. And eat it.
And oh my God I miss bacon.
I miss bacon and fries and burgers and pizza and candy. I miss chocolate shakes. I miss a cool mojito – alcoholic thank you very much- with cussing and dirty-joke telling friends around a table in suburbia. I miss steak, I miss fried chicken, I miss Coke – my cans of Coke and Diet Coke – and I miss Swedish fish. I never ate much of these – always in moderation – but the casual nonchalance – the not-fretting – is what I miss the most. Always there is a second guess now with my meal, always more pressure. It is another price to pay for this disease.
And so, this Friday, it’s 22 hours of fasting now and an infusion in a few hours. After the Taxotere, I’ll go home and probably nap, read a bit, wander and not get much done. But it’s ok, it’s ok. Food is coming.
And I’m here. You’re here. Thank you. And love out.