I kid, it’s not the cancer. It’s probably just my eating habits, which have gone entirely to shit in the last four months. I’d like to say it’s not my fault, because chemo changes your taste buds and all that jazz. But honestly, it’s kind of my fault.

Cancer and chemo are both known to cause fatigue. I’m the champion of middle-of-the-day naps now, which is completely out of character for someone who used to be a workaholic and has trouble standing still. Honestly, I twirl my fork in the space between bites at dinner. That’s how hyper I am. I just didn’t quit.

But now I’m bone weary after the smallest of outings. I legitimately need a two hour nap after a few hours out. And I mean need, like as in I’ll fall asleep on my face if I don’t. And of course, this makes sense. There’s a whole ton going on in my body — besides the cancer itself, the chemo is killing everythang. (EXCEPT THE FAT. WTF, chemo. Get yo’ shit together.) But the whole middle-of-the-day nap business is tough to adjust to, especially because for the first time in my life I’m gaining weight as a result of poor eating habits and general inactivity.

I haven’t gained a ton, but enough that I’m kind of uncomfortable most days — uncomfortable with how my clothes fit, uncomfortable with how I look, uncomfortable with how I feel. My jeans are a little tighter, I’m eating larger portions, and I’m eating a whole ton of junk food whereas before I was pretty much a health nut. (The irony of a health nut getting cancer is not lost on me, by the way. I also never smoked, drank maybe once a year…. you get the drift. Life’s not fair, but that’s just the way she goes.) I’m pretty much stubbornly refusing to get new clothes, though, because I am going to fit into my old ones again.

In the meantime, I know I need to get my eating back on track. At first, when chemo was so hard on me and I was nauseous more often than I wasn’t, I knew I needed to just eat something. There was like a 50 percent chance it would end up in the toilet, anyway, so I wasn’t too stressed about what it was. Then I kind of thought, well, chemo is only for six months at most and I’ll sort it out afterwards. Because I’ve never really gained weight from eating like shit before — probably due to the aforementioned constant activity. The thing I failed to take into account, is that nowadays I spend a good majority of my time not doing anything. I just kind of lack the energy required.

So I’m definitely gaining weight. On top of the ugly days from having about as much hair as the Chinese crested dog that raised my runt of the litter mini aussi before he came home with us, this is too much. I must do something about it. So this is accountability. I will stop treating my body like a fucking garbage can and I will force myself to get some freaking exercise. It helps with the body aches anyway — so that’s another little trick I have for you if you have to take GCSF shots. Your entire body will hurt, if you’re like me. And the last thing you’ll want to do is move it. But I promise, it will help.

Part of my problem could be due to the steroids, but I’m kind of hesitant to blame them because I did ask when I was first prescribed (dexamethasone if you’re interested) if they would cause steroid “puffiness” and the nurse promised me they don’t. So that’s probably not it.

I do have much more of a sweet tooth now, but I know I just need to re-train my taste buds back to normal ie. healthy foods. It’s natural, when you eat sugar you crave it. (Also please don’t tell me that cancer feeds on glucose aka sugar because there is glucose in almost everything and the last thing I need to stress about is my eating making more than just my stomach grow. I’m sure it’s not making my cancer grow, because otherwise my scans would’ve been just terrible.)

In the meantime, if someone invents a chemo that attacks fat cells, I’m the first one in line for that shit.