First, yes, those are my glorious ‘gams’, replete with stubble I grew myself, and a few creases from the bed socks I wore overnight.
Second, let me just acknowledge my friends who are missing one or both their legs and those who have limited or no motor function in one or both their legs. I know I’m lucky to be able to write about this from a position of full-functioning privilege.
That said, I’ve never been especially attached to my legs.
I mean, obviously, I’m ATTACHED to my legs, but there’s fuck-all about them to write home about, even if I’m about to dedicate a whole journal entry to the gobs of flesh and bone south of my butt.
I wrote recently about what can only be described as my seriously fucked-up relationship with food. There’s not really a lot of point in rehashing what was a pretty difficult entry to write, so I’ll just mention that this – food prep – is part of how I’m managing those issues.
Food prep solves my problem of hating – and I mean really hating – to cook/prepare food on a daily basis. I’d rather not eat or order out than face the stove or oven. I kinda miss the days of living on toast because pushing that button down is about as involved as I’ve ever wanted to be in making something to eat.
It turns out a diet that consists only of vegemite on toast is not a recipe for a long and healthy life, no matter what the ads say about the wonder that is vegemite.
I learned pretty quickly the value of preparing meals a month in advance for my animals, since I also prefer to feed them proper, biologically appropriate food. None of that bagged or tinned shit for my fur-children!
Unfortunately, given I prefer most of my meals to be fresh and raw (did you know there are fewer calories in raw veggies than cooked veggies?) I can’t really prepare meals that far in advance without freezing. I do freeze my dinners for a few weeks ahead because I like to make some sort of stew or sauce I can glop on potatoes or rice or pasta.
But for my weekday lunches, I do this!
Disclaimer + Content Warnings
First of all, a lot of what I write below will not reflect well on a lot of people in my life. This is absolutely not my intention! While reflecting on some causes of certain conditions and situations I try to take into account historical context, remembering that it was a very different socio-cultural experience growing up in the late 70s and early 80s to the vastly more socially and psychological aware situation today.
My family didn’t set out to fuck me up! Most, if not ALL of my issues were entirely of my own creation based on my interpretation of what was happening at the time. There is literally no one to blame here but me.
This is a perfect example of separating personal truth from actual fact.
Unless you’re born between the 22nd of June and the 22nd of July, ‘cancer’ can be a pretty scary word! So many millions of people die of cancer, or cancer-related illnesses all the time, and we’re all well aware that it’s out there and people have it. I’d be surprised if anyone doesn’t at least know of someone who has or had cancer. My own grandfather died of cancer-related issues a little over a year ago. Even my cat, my most beloved little buddy Monster, died of cancer, so it’s not at all relegated to the humans in our lives.
Late last year I realised a curious little growth between the bridge of my nose and the corner of my eye had tiny little veins threading through it. I’d previously had this particular little growth checked, but it had appeared from nowhere and refused to go away. I recalled thinking it was a pimple and attacking it as pimples must be attacked, but none of my efforts could entirely erase it from my face. The little blood vessels, however, triggered a bout of research that concluded with Basal Cell Carcinoma, of a nodular variety.