Cancer sucks. Chemo sucks. But you know what sucks even more is the fact that with cancer and chemo come restrictions. Yep, that’s right. Not only is your life one big ball of uncertainty and you are being poisoned from the inside out, but you can’t even have freaking sushi to make it all better. Why? Because sushi is raw fish and your immune system is compromised. So no yummy and delicious spicy tuna rolls. No wasabi with soy sauce. No Ebi or Nigiri. Nada.

My chemo ended on May 2nd. I was allowed an alcoholic beverage on May 9th. But Sushi had to wait one whole month after chemo. Because blood cells take time to grow and six months of body poisoning doesn’t just recover over night. To be fair, I also had to wait to taste honey and tartar, but those are not really dietary staples for me.

Despite their lack of culinary imagination, Montevideans actually really love sushi. They have loads of places to eat in and take out. Katie made it a Sunday tradition to order in sushi. And while it wasn’t my weekly ritual, whenever I didn’t feel like cooking, sushi was always a safe and delicious bet. There is one place in particular that is my sushi splurge. Umami is right by Montevideo Shopping Center and delivers to my house. It is pricey, but I submit it is also the best in the city. So, when I got my sushi date from my doctor (May 30th) I immediately sent out a date-night invitation to all of the people I know love sushi. Join Kim for her first taste of Sushi at Umami. 8:00pm. Partly because who can turn down sushi night and partly because they love me, Katie, Brad, Seba, Tavis and Diego all said yeppers!

And that was the night I died and went to Japanese heaven. Three bottles of wine, four appetizers, two combination platters (9 rolls each), another individual roll order of spice tuna and desserts. We accommodated a shellfish allergy and gluten free. We sat in teeny tiny chairs that were about a foot off the floor (sorry, Brad). But by the end, we were all stuffed, buzzed and happy. Totally worth the 1500 pesos per person price tag. It was my last of the milestones I needed to hit to get back to real life again. There were no more restrictions. Well, that is if you don’t count boxing, which I am not allowed to do while I still have my port in my chest. But considering the last time I tried to box was when I was 14, I think sushi night will be the final fuck you, cancer moment. And I could not have asked for better people with whom to share that moment.