(The following was originally posted on my Carepages blog for family and friends during my treatment.)

Last night I ate a Hostess cupcake. You know, the devil’s food chocolate ones with the delightful cream inside. I hadn’t had one in maybe 15 years. Maybe longer.

It’s just one of a list of things that I had stopped allowing myself and am now letting myself have an indulgence here and there. I actually had to decide between a Ding Dong and a cupcake. I may go back for the Ding Dongs when the cupcakes are gone.

Early on, I thought I didn’t have a bucket list. I’m not one of those people who have longed forever to go to France (been there), Hawaii (ditto), or Timbuktu (no need). I don’t plan to leap out of a plane or zip line in Costa Rica. I do want to eat an English muffin with grass fed butter dripping off. I want to taste the butter, not just remember what a delicious English muffin tastes like. I want to eat food that doesn’t remind me of cardboard and wonder why I am eating it. I’m tired of eating food that’s “supposed to be good for you.” And I don’t mean fresh fruit and vegetables. I mean all this fake-food crap.

It’s not just about food, though. It’s about countless other little things that I denied myself because, maybe someone else needed it, or maybe I didn’t really think I deserved it. This may surprise some of you because I’ve been privy to having a lot of nice things. They just weren’t always things I would have chosen for myself. Perhaps the one place this isn’t true is with computers. Long ago I learned the value of getting what I wanted, maxing it out, and getting the best I could afford. So computer, yeah, I’m good there.

There’s another place this comes into play. I had five thank you cards that came from my now-angel friend, Thelma. I kept them safe in my drawer because the image on them had been painted by her. There they sat in the drawer, day after day, year after year. Safe. Safe from what? Seeing the light of day. I found them the other day and sent one out. Here’s a concept. I have five, why not frame one if I want to keep it, and let the others fly free so others can enjoy the wonderful flowers Thelma painted. What am I keeping them for? I can’t eat them, spend them, wear them. How many other things do I have like that?

I thought I had taken it to heart when client/friend Mark Hyde had written about his cologne that he didn’t want to save it for a special day, he wanted every day to be special, so he wore it every day. I’d apparently forgotten that rule.
What are you keeping safe? What are you denying yourself? You don’t have to eat a whole box of cupcakes, just have one.