An appetite for healing!

LONG road ahead... but I’m well on my way

Managing editor David Whaley continues the story of his battle with throat cancer

WHEN one was previously such a highly-tuned athlete (not) the loss of two stone along this journey was something that needed rectifying.

Now the “nil by mouth” sign has well and truly been thrown in the bin following the swallowing-test successes of the previous week, I was keen to make progress.

I’ve been able to eat soggy cornflakes and cottage pie with the consistency of baby food, but I was determined to push the boundaries as soon as possible.

Helping me is community dietician Roisin, a chirpy Irish lass who brings her biggest smile to the door on every visit. On her most recent, her first task was to weigh me. The slight improvement of last week has continued. Roisin saw this as the green light to cut my food shakes and protein sachets.

But to make that work I had to increase my food intake - by adding double cream to soups, using full-fat milk at every opportunity and having puddings galore. Well, someone’s got to do it...

It’s all about trial and error and not trying to push too quickly. It might not have been a steak or a sumptuous curry, but I defy anyone to have enjoyed an evening meal last week - two poached eggs on lightly-toasted bread with heaps of butter and the crusts cut off - more than me. It was heaven.

As the week progressed I was able to have cod in butter sauce with some mash, slow-cooked liver and even managed a scooped-out jacket potato with tuna. Though tough, I persevered also with jam roll and custard for a few nights running...

A few milkshakes while out walking meant my intake was up considerably. The only failure so far was the option to use the energy drinks as the “milk” in Angel Delight, which would mean not having to take them through my feeding tube. The resulting mix felt like it was sticking to every part of my mouth, and made swallowing ultra-difficult. I crossed that one off the list!

By weekend I was feeling adventurous. We had friends round and (cruelly), they and Wendy were having a Chinese takeaway. I was being offered someething pre-prepared. I wasn’t having that.

I managed the skewered chicken satay (well-chewed, obviously) with a touch of sauce and stripped the filling out of a couple of spring rolls.

Then I managed three quarters of a ham omelette, casting envious glances at the crispy chilli beef and vermicelli as I did so.

I still have a picture in my mind of my daughter polishing off a mountain of meat pie, chips and gravy as she arrived in hungry from a netball game, and me thinking one day that would be me - the food, not the netball.

Over the last couple of weeks the only brake on progress has been a persistent and strength-sapping cough - but it hasn’t stopped me exercising. In fact, once I get up on the exercise bike and get the legs going, I rarely cough!

I have been quite disciplined, often ticking off the kilometres first thing in the morning, and by last weekend I was breezing past Lancaster and on my way to Penrith in the quest to reach my virtual target of St Andrews, the home of golf (that’s 452km by the end of March).

Not sure what Freddie the cat makes of my bobbing head at the upstairs window as he lies defiantly on the roof of my car. He probably thinks I am mad. The feeling is mutual. I make him wait for his biscuits by adding another 5km. He is not impressed.

My other exercise has also picked up apace. I played my first five holes of golf and upped that to 13 by the weekend — though admittedly that was by playing eight, going for a rest and a drink, then picking up my playing partners for the final five.

But it is progress. We are back to check with the Professor this week. Prior to that the specialists have asked Wendy and me to meet up with a man who is to undergo an operation similar to mine on Friday.

I hope we will be able to give him and his wife some inspiration and helpful hints about what lies ahead.

KEEP SMILING