Eating cake

Well, here we go again.

I had an interesting conversation with the endocrinologist yesterday. She tells me that my troubles (which are not terribly serious...don't get all in a tizzy) are likely related to damage to my thyroid caused by the chemo. I have no clear idea what exactly the thyroid does, and I'm not that interested. She seems to know what she's doing and I'm too tired to look things up. So, I'm being sent back to the drawing board, in this case, the blood test clinic with which we have all become so familiar. The ladies will be happy to see me again, no doubt. And this time with hair!

I thought it was funny though, and a sure sign that I'm in Italy. Apart from telling me that my thyroid and various other things are probably all messed up, she spent a great deal of energy trying to convince me that my diet is "very restricted" because I won't eat pasta, bread or sugar. She kept trying to suggest that if I would only start the day with a small bowl of pasta for breakfast, I might feel better. I can see we're going to have an uphill battle.

Picture it, and you will get an idea of how surreal it is to live here. There I was, arguing with my doctor that no, I really wasn't ever going to eat junk food. Not now, not never. No way. You can't make me.

We're going to get on fine, I think. She's very sweet. I especially liked it when she said, very sympathetically, "Don't you miss a little treat? A little cake now and then? Don't you like cake?"

So cute. And soooooo Italian.



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