Chips and salsa is a breakfast food.
When I was in active treatment for breast cancer, I had 6 rounds of chemotherapy every 3 weeks on Thursday mornings. The first 14 days post-infusion were absolute hell from an eating perspective. I wasn’t able to keep anything down, including most chemo-friendly “safe foods,” e.g. rice, applesauce, unseasoned chicken, fruit, and any/all water.
This was because the chemo affected my taste buds, made my tongue numb, and gave me the worst possible indigestion – which I scarcely experience under normal circumstances. For those two weeks, the concept of eating was like hell on earth.
You never realize how much food absorbs your thoughts until you can’t eat. You think about food constantly, and food is everywhere. In the media you watch. In advertisements. Outside in the air, the smells. When you leave your house, when you scroll your phone, no matter which way you turn, something food-related is bound to pop up and remind you that you can’t have any of it.
I would drive myself crazy watching cooking and mukbang videos on TikTok because I wanted to eat all of the glorious foods the creators made and ate, and if my energy levels were up, I’d cook something for my parents (who I lived with at the time) that I wanted to eat, but I couldn’t, so I lived vicariously through the meals I made.
For the smaller window between days 10–14, I would be able to eat at a limited capacity, and that capacity included mostly bland, flavorless foods that wouldn’t “shock” my palate or upset my digestive tract.
And if any of you know me at all, as a Mexican-American woman, eating bland, tasteless, unseasoned food was basically a second hell for me. Under normal circumstances, I am an adventurous eater who gravitates toward highly seasoned, flavorful foods with ample spice, citrus, and salt – all of the best flavors in the world.
One day, about 7 days post-chemo, I was feeling brave, and I attempted to eat pico de gallo my dad made. I have an insane spice tolerance, but I couldn’t keep one bite down. Imagine the worst heartbreak you’ve ever experienced. It was like that, but a million times more heartbreaking.
Once the start of week 3 came around (the week where I’d have chemo again on Thursday), my tongue started feeling normal and I was able to taste foods like before, including all of the spicy goodness I could handle. A comfort food of mine is chips and salsa. But not what you’d buy at the grocery store – homemade roasted salsa my parents taught me how to make.
I’d roast tomatillos, tomatoes, serrano and habanero peppers, garlic, and onion until blistering, blend them all together, add a generous squeeze of lime, season with salt and pepper, and take that first glorious scoop on a sturdy Mexican tortilla chip and let it dance on my tongue. All of the flavors, like colors, brightened my spirits and seasoned my palate with an unmatched joy I can hardly express through writing.
Fortunately, once I finished treatment, my tastebuds returned in full, and I’ve been happily able to eat anything I desire – including the best salsa I can make, at any time of day, whenever I damn well please. Would you like some?
To read more about my issues with eating during chemotherapy, check out Hungry, but Can’t Eat: Food Issues While Undergoing TCHP Chemo.
Candidly Cancer 