Weetabix Revisited in the Wake of Brain Cancer
Until my wife Anne was suddenly stricken by glioblastoma, the very aggressive, incurable form of brain cancer that befell her a mere six weeks ago, she could not live without her daily hit of Weetabix. Even on Christmas morning, she devoured a delicious bowl of this straw-like cereal as always.
She’s dreaming of a Weetabix Christmas – Robert McBryde
She has wolfed down Weetabix in many countries and on several continents and can provide a detailed, as it were, granular analysis of Weetabix variants world wide.
Our globetrotter son David sends her Weetabix from afar, including from his home in Thailand, where it is called Weet-Bix.
When Anne came to Canada, an ethnic German child fleeing from the Soviet invasion of her country, Czechoslovakia, at 10 years of age, she left behind family members, friends, and culinary habits and began ingesting all sorts of North American glop at all hours of the day or night.
Including Weetabix, which Anne stores in the dishwasher, as is evident from the featured picture of this posting.
I have written extensively about this weighty, or shall we say ‘weety ‘subject:
My friend the singer/songwriter/musician Andy McClelland and I even collaborated on a Weetabix ditty.
(Robert McBryde; Andy McClelland)
Weetabix: The Song – Robert McBryde
Give it a listen, if you’re so inclined.
Each and very morning, my wife needs a quick fix;
She’s compelled to devour her Weetabix.
Slovakian food was more eclectic,
At ten years old in Canada she quit the authentic.
She ingested North American comestibles;
Her parents found her eating proclivities detestable.
Wolfin’ cold pizza to start the day
Made them get down on their knees and pray.
Her mom would provide sumptuous school lunches
With tasty old country delights in bunches.
Staples of the Slovak and German cuisine
But Anne preferred… poutine.
She’d trade rye bread, German ham and cheese,
For plastic wrapped Velveeta and then she’d eat
Salt and vinegar chips with lemonade and a chocolate éclair,
No German provisions anywhere.
Chef Boyardee ravioli with Dream Whip,
Pop-up pancakes and Cheez Whiz… a cookin’ kit
Now her Weetabix habit might seem pretty tame
But the motivation is much the same:
To leave the culinary past in the past
And be Canadian, fit in fast.
Eat all sorts of bad-for-you food
A new world attitude.
Don’t know how she does it; she still looks twenty six
Must be the daily dose of Weetabix.
Or the sugar laden white bread and peanut butter
She’s a gastronomical wonder.
If I ate like that I’d feel like crap
Unable to even take a nap
If I eat a bag of chips, hard it’ll hit
Cuz in twenty minutes I’m gonna feel like …
Mac and cheese for dinner,
She’s a dietary sinner.
Wieners and beans with a side of toast
And a course of Weetabix; she likes it the most.
Since she began intensive radiation treatments and chemotherapy last week, Anne has lost her voracious appetite for Weetabix and for all other tasty comestibles and comfort foods which she hitherto found delectable.
This is truly heartbreaking.
As the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard pointed out, nothing is more dangerous than to recollect. Ruminating upon our irretrievably lost, pre-cancer days together, I feel myself yielding to the lure of nostalgia, longing to return to a world more innocent, more familiar, pining for our shared past, forever evanesced. For me, the flame of the past is flickering, and the future feels dim indeed.
Your friend,
Robert
https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/
P.S. In the early 1970s, Anne attended junior and senior high in Burnaby B.C. As a recent arrival in Canada, she was acutely embarrassed by the bagged lunch prepared by her mother and composed of old-country fare, namely sandwiches featuring heavy rye bread, thick delicatessen ham, and smelly ancestral cheese, which she would routinely trade for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches concocted by her friends’ old-stock Canadian moms.
She also used her precious pocket money to procure cafeteria lemonade, along with chocolate eclairs, and her personal favourite and daily staple: salt and vinegar potato chips (Hostess or Old Dutch).
Here are more links if you wish to read more about Anne’s story and to learn more about glioblastoma:
Glioblastoma and Bohemian Waxwings: Birds for Anne – Robert McBryde
Chipmunks from a Georgetown childhood and my wife as a chipmunk today – Robert McBryde
The Art of Love: A song for Anne – Robert McBryde
Childhood Meatloaf and Anne/ Le pain de viande de l’enfance et Anne – Robert McBryde
My wife Anne has brain cancer/ Mon épouse Anne est atteinte d’un cancer du cerveau – Robert McBryde
Anne is battling glioblastoma et son combat est épuisant – Robert McBryde
An update on Anne’s suffering from radiation treatments and chemotherapy – Robert McBryde
https://www.cbc.ca/news/health/glioblastoma-1.4361814
https://www.cbc.ca/news/entertainment/gord-downie-obit-1.4359906
https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/glioblastoma/symptoms-causes/syc-20569077
https://www.braintumour.ca/fr/types_de_tumeurs_cerebrales/glioblastome/
https://canadaehx.com/2022/10/08/gord-downie/
https://glioblastomafoundation.org/
https://sunnybrook.ca/content/?page=about-gord-downie-fund-brain-cancer
https://www.braincancercanada.ca/
List of people with brain tumors – Wikipedia
Videos about Gord Downie:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i51CPPminbM
Mike Downie made a documentary about one of Canada’s most iconic bands, but it wasn’t easy. The filmmaker tells the story behind The Tragically Hip: No Dress Rehearsal (Prime Video) and the challenges that came with revisiting the memory of its frontman — and his late brother — Gord, who succumbed to glioblastoma in 2017.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uXD-gpmb1Us
