Breast cancer blog: Big Mac dreams
My appetite has awakened slowly from its slumber. I am finding a seemingly happy medium between the old and new me
Since the surgery, since the sentence, since the reality set in that the diagnosis is breast cancer, my palette has shifted. I used to be a voracious grazer and at times eater - a snackaholic, storing crackers, cookies, chocolates in my desk drawer at work.
That was the old me. The old me, I sometimes reminisce, detested drinking water. I was a Diet Coke girl and loved to swing by the 7-Eleven and pick up M&Ms or Tim Tams. I went through a phase of pineapple buns and milk teas, which almost became my staple breakfast. I went through a stint of ramen noodles for lunch and dinner. I acquired and consumed food without much thought, perhaps taking for granted my health and well-being.
Here in Hong Kong, I thought I ate considerably more healthfully than I had back in meat-and-potatoes country (aka my homeland). I ate mostly Chinese, a lot of veggies, rice, the occasional fatty and sweet Shanghainese dishes (delicacies from my ancestral origins). I thought I ate healthfully (we have a domestic helper who is good enough to open her own café).
Of all the things I loved most about Hong Kong, food was first and foremost. In nearby Causeway Bay, I could easily pick up sweet soy milk, rice and fried noodle balls. I could head to the upper floors of shopping centres such as Times Square and enjoy some of the best foods in the East and West. I was a lucky girl.
Since the surgery, and being told I have a mildly fatty liver too, something shifted, mostly a mindset. I didn’t need any pushing or prodding. I was perhaps scared into my new norm of eating.
When my father – who is in the medical field – recommended eating more apples and bitter melon, I had apple and bitter melons for lunch and dinner.
But I’m not alone, in talking with other ladies (similar vintage, same problem), they’ve all said they’ve undergone a food facelift. They are big fans of green tea, water and most have converted from being carnivores to vegans. I met one woman with breast cancer who flatly told me she gave up all chicken since they are hormone producing.
A few weeks after my shift in eating habits, the aunt (she mostly fearing I wasn’t getting enough nutrition) talked with the surgeon about my change. The surgeon recommended eating a bit of everything. READ: moderation and not starvation.
A social worker at the Hong Kong Breast Cancer Foundation recommended the same. Since then I’ve learned there is an anti-breast cancer diet — low fat, cut out artificial sugars, eat fewer dairy products and avoid red meat.
Change is not all bad.
I have shed a few pounds now. Water is good for me, and it feels good to be lighter, especially in this humid weather.
The other week I craved McDonald’s French fries. It happened in the last 15 minutes of yoga class. Afterwards I walked to the nearest chain, queued up and ordered a lunch set. Call it defiance or pure enjoyment.
I relished the French fries and thought: “Hey, why not live it up?” What was life without the joy of eating? It made total sense especially amidst the backdrop of disease.