After an entire day full of lazy (my favorite kind of Saturday), I had dinner with Jo tonight. At Charleston's (my favorite restaurant). And I ordered ribs (my favorite thing on their menu).
And the angels sang.
And I felt like I had beaten radiation, just a little bit.
Their ribs were the first thing I threw up during radiation. We'd gone to Charleston's the Saturday before I started treatments and I'd brought home leftovers. I had my first treatment on Monday and was nauseated. I'd been told that any treatment-related nausea wouldn't start until halfway through (three weeks in), so I assumed that it was nerves. Or maybe the frozen yogurt Jo'd bought on the way home. (She refuses to let me do anything by myself the first time through, so she'd driven me to and from that first appointment. She's the most adorable mother hen ever, and I love her!) On Tuesday, again, I was nauseated. No actual vomiting, but I didn't feel well. On Wednesday... nausea again. But those ribs in my fridge were calling my name, if only because I knew they were five days old and not getting any younger. I decided I might as well eat them, even if I didn't feel that great. I mean, I'd felt sick to my stomach the last two days, but nothing had come of it. I figured I was in for another night of lying on the sofa holding my tummy and wondering what was wrong with me, no matter what I ate, so I heated up the ribs. And they were delicious. For about 5 minutes. No sooner had I rinsed the plate and put it in the dishwasher than I spun around and grabbed the sink. ... Who knew that grown women could projectile vomit? Also, who knew that barbeque sauce could be so revolting? (What had been so delicious going down was absolutely horrific coming back up.) And thus 12 weeks of debilitated nausea was born. Without prescription medication (both for the nausea itself and the dizziness that was a side effect), I never would have made it through the Fall of 2010. Radiation sucked. It killed the flora in my digestive system. Foods that I had loved were suddenly at the top of the list of Stuff That Will Cause Extreme Pain.
I haven't wanted to eat barbeque sauce since. Not even once, in the last 18 months, have I wanted any food that had barbeque sauce involved. Until this last week. I've been craving something with a sweet, smoky sauce all week. And tonight, I had ribs. Not just any ribs, but Charleston's ribs. The very thing that turned me off barbeque sauce in the first place.
I know, I know... It sounds like a very small thing, but I feel like like I won - just a little bit - in this fight of getting my old body back.
Now, my only problem is that I'm afraid that I'll want Charleston's ribs with garlic mashed potatoes and caramelized carrots for dinner every night for the rest of my life. Seriously, it's that good. (And I can totally eat them again. Hooray!)