So food. Yes. Food seems to be the most important thing to my body right now and I can't seem to get enough of it. It is funny really, since I spent the last six months as the frightful, though terribly trendy, skeletal girl, I seem to be making up for it now. People keep telling me I must be the only cancer patient to gain weight while undergoing chemo. But for me this is a good thing. I need the weight and the energy and if I weren't able to keep eating as I need, I could be in dire straights pretty quickly. As it stands I have put on about 5 pounds of needed reserves. The voracious appetite does scare me a little though. I am an American woman, after all. I am trained to look at any rising number on the scale as a personal failure punishable by lashes and ostrasization. But for the five days after chemo, I am able to blame the prednisone for the fact that no amount of food in the world is enough for me. David has threatened to stash food where I can't find it so he and Jackson won't starve. I don't think it will go that far.

But the combination of the appetite increase and the fact that nothing tastes quite right makes it difficult to feel satisfied. I take comfort in the knowledge that in the next week or so, I will even out, eat like a normal person and things will taste as they should.