Today, I was supposed to go to a wedding. That did not happen. I am not neutropenic, but I am close. It is the time of the month when I have a low immune system. It’s the best. Isolation. Coincidently, I was also invited to a wedding last weekend and I couldn’t go to that either. Thanks Myeloma. For some reason, perhaps due to the recent mishap with my drugs, I am also in a lot of pain today. It’s bordering on oral morphine time.

Today, well, from 14:00hrs onwards has been a day of preservation. I have conserved my energy, protected my health, and pickled and subsequently jarred some vegetables. Cool.

As part of my ongoing quest to buy my friends with food, I have spent my day making chutney and ketchup. I have no intention of eating any if it. Christmas is just round the corner. Today’s activities have also meant that I have completed something tangible in my ongoing quest to kill time and it counts towards my WI training. I’m thinking long term goal here. Positivity.

I am so proud of myself. The two chutneys and the one ketchup may taste absolutely revolting, but I have achieved something and it feels so good. Despite the pain, I have not had the time to dwell on My Myeloma. In fact, I may have gone five whole hours without thinking about the fact that I have cancer. I believe this is what I set out to achieve. This is not Cancer Chutney. It’s Just Chutney. Now, I have some concerns about the taste, most of it is down to the fact that I was not in my own kitchen and some improvisation had to take place. I was making the mess and the smell in Mamma Jones’ kitchen. I now have a distinct odour of vinegar. Form a queue.

I don’t really want to spoil the mystery for those due to receive my jars, but realistically, I think the cat is out of the bag, so…

20121118-010144.jpgA pre-purée soupy tomato ketchup

20121118-010307.jpgThe supermarket vegetables

20121118-010406.jpgThe sliced red onion with a hint of chilli

20121118-010502.jpgThe Chutney Factory

20121118-010734.jpgHygiene and laundry

20121118-011019.jpgStick a fork in me, I am done

It is this sort of shit, that keeps me interesting. Most definitely.