Six weeks of chemotherapy and my weight loss now stands at 12lbs. If anybody wants to know how to lose 2lb a week, I’ve mastered it!
Not that this is meant to happen. I’m meant to maintain weight and muscle during the treatment. Quite how I’m meant to do this baffles me. Plates of food don’t look appealing. Big portions are an instant turn off. Dessert still looks good, but as a muscle enhancing measure I’m not convinced it’s a winner.
My ability to walk long distances desserted me in Chile last year. The pelvic damage. Since that moment I dread to think what has happened to my muscles that help me walk. Underused is an understatement. Chris gets sent to refill my Wetherspoons coffee to save me the effort and occasional pain. Rachel tends to carry my bag for me. It’s a good job my solo travel days are over, as lumping a suitcase around is beyond me!
My efforts to try and counter the weight reduction aren’t exactly healthy. Chocolate. Bacon. Desserts. Sugar in coffee instead of sugarless tea. All techniques that are failing. All techniques that aren’t exactly healthy!
It’s a strange paradox. And I’m not sure I care too much about it at present.