In Praise of the Toast Train

All things considered, I suppose one could call my weekend alright. (Sorry for not posting - it's a busy life having cancer AND being a blogger!) There were some Everyday Things that now startlingly count as Major Achievements for people as suddenly sick as myself, like going on a short shopping trip with my mother, and attending two larger gatherings of folks. Those really did brighten my weekend and give me something else to think about/do besides myself, but first I would like to highlight a couple Very Small Things that vastly improved my quality of life this weekend:

Very Small Thing #1: Crest Mouthwash, Alcohol-Free
Part of my new-found responsibilities include being exceedingly clean, to prevent infection while my white blood cell counts are down. This is hard for me. I'm having to get over my severe dislike for everything overly anti-bacterial. But when you're in the business of specialized cell poisoning, there isn't much choice. Especially vulnerable, I'm told, is my mouth and so I was given an oral hygiene regimen. Brush four times a day and then rinse with baking soda solution and then rinse with salt water solution. I thought this was great - I could mix up my own solutions in my little pint jars and swish when I was done. Nothing makes Margaret quite as happy as little pint jars, and I wouldn't even have to gargle! That worked for a few days, until the taste of salt water lingering was enough to make me need to spit several times afterwards and the thought of baking soda rinse, flavorless as it was, was enough to put a bad taste in my mouth and ruin any thought of food. Thus I am now a total fan and endorser of Crest Alcohol-Free Mouthwash because it puts me in a gag-free, pleasant taste space.

Very Small Thing #2: The Toast Train
Nausea is a big deal when you're in this sort of therapy. Everyone asks about it, they drug you before, during, and after to prevent it, and send you home with pills you can take 4 (literally!) different ways to suppress it. One hint I read in one of my cancer books was to prevent nausea first thing in the morning was to eat toast before getting up. This fits right into my routine, as my love of lightly buttered toast for breakfast is long, deep, and thorough. So yesterday morning, when I woke feeling a little bit "off" (this is becoming a constant state), I suggested that Mom bring me some toast in bed. Not only did she comply, but even cut the toast into the cutest little 2-bite-size pieces arranged around the plate, like her father used to do before meals. It's called a "train," and makes even the best of toast (and this was really good toast, thanks to some stellar bread by Kyle) that much better.