beets and greens photoAs a person participating in the fun-filled romp known as chemotherapy, your ‘umble correspondent has been able to make all sorts of wonderful discoveries.

There was “anorexia”, wherein our heroine was introduced to the practice of picky eating. Not something she had been familiar with previously, at all.

There was “chemo brain”, wherein she learned just how stupid “dumber than a box of rocks” really was. Is. Whatever.

Today, she learned that the two can be combined in new and interesting ways.

Say, f’rinstance, one learns that one’s blood is dangerously low in something called neutrophils – due to the aforementioned chemotherapy’s Sherman-like march through one’s bloodstream toward whatever cancer cells might have the temerity to remain within one’s corpus. (Note – there ain’t none, one just has to run the bases, like any other home-run hitter.)

One reads up on neutrophils, and white blood counts, learning that a diet rich in beef, cooked mushrooms, and red/orange/yellow wegetables is just the ticket for getting that neutrophil level back up to the mark that will prevent our heroine from getting hit with Neulasta. That being the drug used to hammer one’s marrow into manufacturing neutrophils, while also apparently causing bone pain – IOW, not something our heroine is inclined to entertain the deployment of, since she’s got entirely enough chemicals runnin’ ’round her veins, thank you very MUCH.

Anywise, the thought of some yummy beets seems like a good thing, and she hits the local Kroger in search thereof. What ho! Organic beets! With greens on top! On Wednesday, the beets are steamed and enjoyed, with a steak and sautéed ‘shrooms. Yum. She feels better already.

The greens were left in the weg crisper, and today’s lunchtime seemed like just the time to wilt ’em, butter/salt ’em, and get outside ’em. So she did.

Oh – has it been mentioned that a regular side effect of chemo involves the, um, acceleration of elimination of the alimentary sort?

We think she set some kind of land speed record around the time from beet-green ingestion to beet-green removal. The old aphorism about what goes fast through a goose came to mind.

Beet feet, indeed.

The things one learns when one isn’t paying attention.

That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it…

Beeting Up On Oneself
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