I feel good. My mouth is a wreck and I am still depressed whenever I try to eat anything because it tastes like absolutely nothing, but I still feel good. Considering what I am doing and the nasty crap going through my cells and bloodstream, I feel a lot better than I thought I would and better than the doctors said I would. I don't know if it's just a matter of time and it hits me like a boulder, but so far I'm doing ok.
I have been trying to describe, even to myself, what 'nothing' tastes like. How do you describe the lack of something? I guess it would be like trying to describe a flavor to someone who hasn't tasted it. How would you describe banana to someone who hasn't ever tasted banana? It really doesn't taste like anything else, so you can't say, "It's similar to...".
The problem is that there is nothing. Some people have described it as being like eating straw, but even straw has a flavor. This is the total lack of it. This is actually the hardest part to deal with. I said it was depressing, but I'm not depressed. I'm annoyed and, well, kinda pissed. I can deal with burns and sores and losing my hair in weird places (all on my head, children), I can handle fatigue, though I admit I'm very glad there's no serious nausea, but I wish I could taste something.
I've found a small consolation. I have never like Campbell's chicken noodle soup. I've always felt like the broth was not legit, like it was too greasy or too golden or something. I'll probably feel that way again when the taste comes back, but I have to say, 'thank heavens for chicken noodle soup'. Heated up just right, the broth is soothing and the noodles are just soft enough that I can chew or swallow and it all goes down real smooth. It's probably that extra chicken fat I would have complained about. I don't know, but I swear I could almost taste something.