Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): Twas the eve of chemo number fourteen… One chemo closer to the end. After tomorrow, we just have two chemos left. I am in a constant state of feeling like shit. Chemo has worn me down. I am tired. My body is tired. If you don’t hear from me, it isn’t personal. I just don’t have capacity for most things anymore. Rip.
TO THE LONG VERSION!
One of the best pieces of advice I ever received from my mom was to make sure to work in the fast food industry at some point in my life because it is a life changing experience. You learn to hustle. You learn to respect the hustle. You learn to respect human beings in a different way. My mom is a smart cookie (as we all know) so my first job in college was at a chicken wing place called Hot Wingz. You guys…. we had the best chicken wings I have ever had in my life. We had 12 different wing sauces and most of them were made in-house and we had burgers. Our food was the shit and if you have been there, you know what I am talking about.
Because of my two and a half year stint there, I am now a self pronounced chicken wing snob! I don’t fuck around with weak ass wings or weak sauces. Hard pass Domino’s and Pizza Hut! And I am really judgmental about chicken wings. One time, Jose and I went to this local restaurant (I don’t want to say their name because I don’t want to roast them) and I got into it with the cashier at the place because she was trying to tell me the word “Buffalo” (as in Buffalo wings) was in reference to a bone-in wing.
No. No. No. No.
“Buffalo” is a type of sauce. And she argued with me and Jose about it! It is one thing to argue with me and a whole different ball game to argue with Jose. I mean, he worked with me at the chicken wing place. That is literally how we met: over a bowl of saucy chicken wings. Our love is literally made of honey chipotle and honey habanero wing sauce. I ended up trying their wings anyways and they sucked and I wrote a Yelp review about it that maxed out on the character count. That is how passionate I am about wings.
Sadly Hot Wingz closed shortly after our departure and those wings and burgers are but a sweet memory. The most acceptable dine-out wing I have encountered since then is Buffalo Wild Wings’ mango habanero bone-in wings. They are sweet and spicy and generally fried well enough to preserve the juicy meat. I love a good burn. I love spicy anything. It makes me feel powerful and almost immortal? I don’t know why.
But eating chicken wings on a date night is spendy as fuck and I live with a chicken wing cook, so we often times will opt to make our own chicken wings. And we always make chicken wings for Superbowl. It is our yearly tradition to honor the Sunday madness at the chicken wing store. Also football and chicken wings are a classic pair! Obio.
However, the last two years for Superbowl I have had parosmia (thanks COVID-19!) and chicken wings have been a sad experience. In 2021, I was completely anosmic and couldn’t taste them. This year, chicken and most peppery foods still tasted like shit to me, so it was a no go. But something shifted for me after my first red devil chemo and chicken has become more edible. Small wins?
I was feeling nostalgic this week and keep getting targeted ads for Buffalo Wild Wings, so I was like well let’s fuck around and find out and see how my taste buds are doing! Tonight I popped those suckers into the air fryer, got them nice and moist, and bought three sauces from Buffalo Wild Wings: Mango habanero, Buffalo hot, and sweet BBQ. Jose left to go get a hair cut so I was like neat me time! I tossed my wings in the sweetly spicy mango habanero sauce, despite knowing I am not supposed to eat spicy food right now, cut up some carrots and celery, and sat down to watch my favorite food reviewer on YouTube.
Ah. This is the life.
I am so glad that Jose was not home to witness what happened next because it was a fucking shit show. I like to pretend that I don’t have cancer when I want to eat spicy food. Spicy food is my self care. And sometimes the mango sauce is not spicy, sometimes it is. I can’t tell if it was spicy today because I have no cells or it was just spicy in general. Tears were STREAMING down my face as my nose uncontrollably watered. I could NOT get them to stop. I literally swallowed so much snot and salty tears while I ate. I have no finger prints and my nails are lifted, so I couldn’t hold the wings in my fingers and I was getting sauce between my nail and my finger. They also kept sliding out of my hands and getting sauce all over my face. Because of that, the sauce was getting into my nose (remember, I have NO nose hairs) and making other parts of my face burn.
I looked like a three year old eating Spaghetti O’s. I was a mess.
The burn was way more intense than normal. It was so intense that the chicken wing felt temperature hot on my lips, to the point I almost thought I had to stop eating. I died tonight eating chicken wings, but I can confirm that the sauce and chicken wings taste mostly normal to me and honestly that whole journey was worth it.
I do want to advise other cancer patients to not do what I did; skip the spicy meal, and wear gloves if you do eat spicy wings because it is an hour after dinner and I have washed my hands like four times and guess who has SPICY MANGO HABANERO WING SAUCE STUCK UNDER THEIR NAILS?! My fingers internally are burning. This is karma.
Who would have thought that chemo could fuck you up this much?
Today’s song lyrics of the day are brought to you by Pitbull.
“I was born in a flame
Mama said that everyone would know my name
I’m the best you’ve never had
If you think I’m burning out, I’m never am
I’m on fire
I’m on fire
I’m on fire
I’m on fire
Fireball”
madisonhatescancer 