When all this neck/mouth cancer shit started I was 135 pounds and 6 feet tall. At the end of radiation/chemo I was down to around 110 pounds.
I was told by the radiologist that if I didn’t get a feeding tube it was unlikely I would survive radiation since I would hit a point where I wouldn’t be able to eat or drink anything. And I didn’t have have a fat reserve to live off of.
Around the time I started radiation there was a guy that was pretty much on the same timeline and getting the same treatment. He did not get a feeding tube. He went from around 220 and 5’8” to probably around 140 pounds. It was goddamn brutal to watch. He said he went about a month without eating anything and was only getting down sips of Gatorade. He was not a nice man towards the end.
I wouldn’t have survived what he did. He had a substantial fat reserve.
StoryTime
I was in the hospital for a few days this week. I had a colonoscopy. I was given this jug of hell.
“Get down four liters of the nasty in six hours, and you are going to poop 100 times tonight.”
I still have my feeding tube. So I just poured the shit in a gravity bag and let it slowly drip into the tube going into my stomach while I watched TV. Even with the feeding tube it was still miserable. But at least I didn’t have to taste it.
Oh, here are pictures of our puppies to brighten the day.