The plate has small portions of healthy food. Each is delicious, prepared with care and is something I like and enjoy. I cut a small piece, pierce it with the tines of my fork, lift and bring it towards me.
It smells delicious, but I can’t do it. I can’t eat it. As it gets close to my mouth, my stomach convulses, but I force it down. It tastes good, but swallowing is an effort. I take another bite, and a third, each smaller than the last. That’s it. No more. Three days of eating less and less, and my stomach remains unsettled.
Down ten pounds, my stomach constantly churning, my brain rejecting sweet, sour, salty, bitter, I have no answers.
My Three Angels, who prepare me vegan healthy lunches each day send juiced vegetables. Carrots, celery, apple, lemon some greens it is fresh, healthy and nutritious but I can only tolerate about two ounces every couple hours.
I seek out my friend who has walked this path before, down much darker roads, paths I hope I must never tread and ask what did you do.
She puts her hand on my arm, and says you have to eat. You have to keep your strength. At one point she could only tolerate insure for over four straight weeks, and took over 32 meds for nausea. Call your doctor, you must maintain the strength to fight.
I call the doctor, and he orders a prescription to help me. Maybe tonight I will be able to eat.