There are swallows and there are swallows. I’m talking about the swallowing type of swallow. The one which requires a little gulp at the end and if it’s a very special one (perhaps birthday or Golden Wedding Anniversary) comes with kisses and maybe a nice card to keep from Moonpig or similar.

That bodily function that, for most of us, happens without even thinking about it. It’s so innocuous, some of us, and I include myself in this, can do it whilst doing other bodily functions simultaneously. For example, try swallowing now, whilst reading this and at the same time, pop out a little poop. Readers of a certain age, may I suggest you do not try this unless you are entirely alone.

There you go. See. It’s a doddle. I’m sure some reading this blog could find more spectacular ways to illustrate swallowing whilst doing other things simultaneously, but I’ll leave those until I’m back on top form in some boozer with a pint in my hand!

And so, to swallowing. Or not to swallow. No. This is not a rhetorical question and there is absolutely no need or expectation to write in and answer this (though a cheeky thumbs up may be taken as a hint).

Until yesterday, I’d swallow just for fun. I’d walk down the street going ‘gulp, gulp, gulp’ with a slightly camp skip in my step and a big fucking smile on my face.

Sadly, the gulping and smiles have gone, leaving me somewhat disabled with an unexplained camp skip and now I have bulging eyes. The radiotherapy treatment has incrementally caused the reduction in saliva which in turn has instigated what I suspect is possibly oral thrush. And it’s painful.

Ulcers are springing up like wild crocuses on a badly maintained KIrklees roundabout and any morsel of food I dare put in there seems to behave like a pinball in one of those machines that makes a lot of noise. Each contact with the gum or, worse, the tongue, sends it accelerating across the roof of the mouth with excruciating pain until it disappears down an ever-decreasing hole at the back and into a burning oesophagus.

Whilst doing my best to hum ‘Tommy’ in my head and ignore the pain, I am failing badly.

To add to this, all sense of taste has just about gone.

My recent homemade bolognese was so insipid, it ended up with more salt than meat as I stupidly tried to give it some flavour.

If I’m not careful, this blog could easily become a long list of your favourite treats sabotaged by my wicked take on how it actually feels to swallow right now.

But that’s not fair. I’d rather this blog ends with a call to action.

Stuff your faces! Eat and drink whatever makes you happy because for every mouthful you enjoy, you’re having mine too.

And that’s what I call Paying it Forward.

Love, Nadio.

8th June, 2021