The last month aka the day before Tumour Eviction Day!
800 calories a day. That’s been my life for the last month. Sometimes a little over, sometimes a little under. Always... Well awful. But this isn’t a fad diet. It’s to shrink my liver so the surgeon can actually get in there without needing a sat nav. The bonus? I’ve lost so much weight my hips have relocated. I go to put my hands on them and just miss. Flyfour says my butt has vanished. Lisa thinks if I turn sideways, I’ll disappear. The lads in the warehouse keep pointing out my trousers are now “emergency parachute” size. The real victory has been getting creative with the tiny meals I’m allowed. Two tablespoons of rice, an egg, and veg became “Egg Fried Rice” without the frying. Ten pieces of pasta became a pasta salad so carefully curated it could be in the Tate. I’ve put Hull Chip Spice on so much that it now counts as a food group. Friends see my meals and say, “That’s so small!” which is weird, because sometimes I can’t finish them. And through it all, I’ve kept moving. Walking...