The Search for Food

Hunting and gathering for food is a monumental task for me the week after chemotherapy. The first step is convincing myself I really am hungry enough to risk the perilous journey to the kitchen. Depending on how I feel this task alone can take several hours. Once the decision has been made I plot my course.

The first and shortest stage of the journey is from the bed to the door of the bedroom - an intimidating 10 feet. This a crucial decision point. Am I upright? Can I get through the doorway without hanging on? Can I navigate the rest of the increasing distances?

I continue on. The hallway is a narrow 12 foot passage. It is a safe zone because I can lean on a wall if it becomes necessary. It is the trek from the hallway door, across the wide open territory of the living room and into the kitchen that is the most hazardous. The 20 foot span provides no support for wobbly feet.

I continue slowly on. I reach the relatively safe zone of the kitchen. There are counters to hang on to and a folding chair if I need to sit down. The search for sustenance begins. It must take zero preparation time, have the reasonable expectation of not tasting awful and be portable to take back to the bedroom. Mission accomplished I turn to the lengthy trek back to the bed.

I continue, slowly, slowly on. The journey home is uneventful but unbearably long and tiring. I reach the bedroom door and see the bed shining in the distance - only 10 more feet. The food is forgotten as I place it on the chair and sink into the comfort of a horizontal position on the bed. I think I will stay here for a while.

Oh, no. I forgot my water bottle. It is lost in the wilds of the kitchen until I can make another safari.