Ok, I think I’ve got the trick with food. If I expect it to taste like what I think it will taste like, I’m going to be sorely disappointed. But if I throw those expectations to the wind, and approach the thing-that-looks-like-a-grapefruit-that-used-to-taste-like-a-grapefruit with the enthusiasm and cautiousness of a small child just learning about taste, then things can be pretty good. So I just had some of what, in my old parallel universe of a life, would have been called grapefruit, and it didn’t taste bad. Rather pleasant actually, fruity, acidic, and slightly metal. But not horrifying. Not actual grapefruit, but the chemo universe version of grapefruit.
A woman trying to explain it to me before chemo said this: “All I wanted to eat were canned peaches, because they were the only thing that still tasted like what I remembered.” At the time I thought that was so odd – how could anything not taste like what it is? – but now I get it. Sayonara good food, I hope we meet again. In fact, let’s make a date – 6 months? Or maybe even 4.