the digital scale at MSKCC, the source of my latest torment, looks just like this.
For the last year, the scale on the sixth floor of Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City has done nothing but torment me.
Three times a month, I have to get weighed in, and it racks my nerves each time. You’d think that being slim would be the last thing I’d be concerned about, but, alas, body image haunts cancer patients and civilians alike.
It all started when I set out on a mission to gain weight after losing 25 pounds post-surgery. I was looking sickly and thin, and decided for the first — and probably last — time in my life that I should eat whatever I wanted: bread, pasta, chocolate, or as I now refer to them, the axis of evil. Not such a smart idea looking back.
At first, it was all good. I put on a pound or two, then three or four. It didn’t take long before I was looking like my old self and fitting back into my clothes. Then before I knew it, I was 10 pounds heavier than I was pre-cancer, bursting out of my clothes but determined to squeeze into them anyway. My mom says it’s the steroids I have to take while on chemo. God bless her. I’m thinking it might be those chocolate cupcakes, but I’m more than happy to blame cancer.
Clearly, though, my quest to put on the pounds backfired. Before my diagnosis, I wasn’t far from my ideal weight, about five or so pounds. But now, it’s getting out of control. I’m the heaviest I’ve been. And while my doctors aren’t trippin because I’m in the same range as before, things done changed.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to watch it all happen. But my regular weigh-ins, and the staff who document them like a plot graph, mean I get an accurate digital measure of my portly expansion thrice monthly. It’s my version of torture.
You see, I never owned a scale, nor did I make it a habit of getting on one. Ever. My theory about scales is simple: They’re self-inflicted punishment, and I’m good on that.
It’s one thing to be in denial. It’s another to face the ever-increasing number that — even in kilograms — can’t disguise the obvious. And while I’m fully aware that I need to keep in all in perspective and stay focused on the larger goal of whipping cancer that doesn’t stop the wave of dread from rolling through every Tuesday. In fact, I’m scheduled to meet my nemesis in about 20 minutes or so, and I feel like a pugilist hoping to make weight before a fight.
What I’m really wondering, though, is how I can lose 20 pounds by the end of the week, which is the same dilemma I had last week. I’m pretty sure it involves cutting back on the cupcakes, but isn’t life too short to give up chocolate even for a moment?
Maybe I’ll use that scale as my motivation. I figure if I stay focused on beating it, I might just come out triumphant. And when I do, I’m baking cupcakes to celebrate.
Don’t give up the cupcakes or anything chocolate for that matter. I know I won’t. I need a work-out partner. Maybe we can loss those extra lbs. togheter. and then go home and bake cupcakes
my question is why pay attention to the scale if you never have? why not pay attention to how you feel and what can make you feel better? one time, you told me you love running and how it feels for your feet to smash against the pavement. I for one hate to run despite the fact that I did it all through high school… but for you, just so you can feel great again, I will run with you. Anytime, anywhere.
love you!
As you can tell from our feast 2 weekends ago, I am in the same boat on the weight and cupcake issue. If you recall, the last time you saw me I was chasing a cupcake truck down in the streets of DC (Curbside Cupcakes). I have since decided to read the book Women, Food, and God to try to understand my battle with the bulge a little better! It is on my to do list for this weekend. As luck would have, I was able to enjoy a slice of chocolate covered cake for dessert at a farewell luncheon before I started the book!
Honestly, Chana I think you are being way too hard on yourself. You are fighting the battle, dealing with steroids and their side effects, and as charming, congenial and beautiful as ever! You deserve a cupcake or two!
Hang in there girl, you are not alone with the dread of the scale but you far exceed me and many others in your brave and fearless war on cancer!
I have been where you are-skinny as all get out and then suddenly adding the pounds. I found Zumba. It is a dance craze that feels good, and burns calories and removes toxins.
Change your focus-and the weight will fall off.
Laura–How much weight have you lost on Zumba and how often do you go?
I go about 2x a week and I have lost 13 lbs since January with a healthy diet, not crazy stuff. I love to dance and clearly the women in these classes are having a ball. I have seen amazing transformations in the last few months with many of the ladies. Even my hinnie belly(14 inch vertical incision) is flatter and firmer and no spanx for me!
You go girl! Where do you live and what is the name of the studio? I am very interested in attending these classes!
I live on Long Island but the beauty of Zumba is that it is EVERYWHERE. Just go to Zumba.com and punch in your location. It is the latest rage. I go to a place called Bet U can Dance in East Northport on Jericho TPKE. I also go to Zumba
in New Jersey and Florida when I am there.
Many Thanks Laura. I will look for DC classes and pass on your location to my best friend in Long Island. I’ll keep you posted.
LOL … I’ve gained five or ten post-op pounds, too. I don’t care and neither does my doctor. I hear you can lose 20 pounds in a month on the Atkins diet. Good luck!
I saw the picture of the scale and started to run, then I remembered it was online.
You should have called me awhile ago. I have about 50 lbs to freely give anyone who wants to take it away from me. If only it was that easy.
After you slay cancer, then you can become the weight slayer. I’ll be your sidekick “Gut Buster”
Stay Strong. We’re with you.
Give up the cupcakes. Give up the white pasta. Give up the refined foods. The cancer cells love the cupcakes even more than you do. In fact, when you get your PET scan, that radioactive stuff they pump through your veins that highlight the cancer in your body is GLUCOSE.
I was the ultimate omnivore. Every meal had something on it that had a face, recognized its young and feared death. Most days I could squeeze in a desert or two. Hunger and eating were not related. I could always eat. I do not think I have ever been truly hungry in my entire life.
However the reading that I have been doing since my own diagnosis of cancer indicates that there are really two major categories of disease. Diseases of poverty and diseases of affluence. Obesity, heart disease, cancer, diabetes, hypertension, etc., etc., are disease of a affluent lifestyle. Where the slice of meat/chicken/fish you eat is so big that it pushes your side dishes on separate plates. Our side dishes have no value; our salads are drowned in dressing; our desserts are positively decadent.
You are very important to me. Meeting you has been one of the blessings that have come to me through this experience. Most western doctors do not think diet, exercise and positive thinking have any role in y our healing. I disagree.
Life IS short. Life with cancer and cupcakes is shorter. It’s a trade-off. You decide.
Chana, Thick or thin you are beautiful. And an inspiration to me. Do what makes you happy and healthy. And keep inspiring and informing us(mainly black women). You are truly a blessing. I love you.
Chana,
I can understand your dilemma with the chocolate cupcakes. I could eat 2 or 3 everyday if it didn’t make me feel so guilty, especially because of the bulge that’s constantly growing around my waistline. However, if the chocolate and sweets are detrimental to your health and the treatments you are receiving then surely I know you will find a healthier choice to substitute that craving… Keep up the great work! People are listening and learning from your growing knowledge and discoveries… P