I’ve mentioned before that B has lost some weight since his diagnosis, around 7kg in total (1 stone). As he was slim to begin with, I’ve been hoping that he would naturally regain this weight after the end of treatment. So far it isn’t happening.
B doesn’t weigh himself regularly, so I’ve started lurking at the top of the stairs once a week, scales at the ready. When he appears in his towel after his shower, I command ‘drop it’. A few weeks ago I was shocked to find that his BMI now falls into the ‘underweight’ category.
He doesn’t look unhealthy, but I worry that when he starts work again next week he will have nothing ‘in the tank’ energy-wise. He tires so easily already. He certainly can’t afford to lose any more.
But what to do? B eats normally, never skips meals and has a healthy diet, which I have always found admirable. But a few more calories wouldn’t go astray. We often have conversations like this:
Me: What did you have for lunch today?
B: A sandwich.
Me: Anything else? A brownie? Cake?
B: I had some fruit.
Me: What have I told you? Less fruit, more lard!
Fruit isn’t a bad thing, I admit, but I’ve always found it to be somewhat overrated. Apples, especially. The only place apples belong is in a pie.
B continues to experience problems sleeping, and often gets up in the night to watch tv. The other morning he told me, with some shame, that during one of these bouts of insomnia he had polished off a whole… punnet of raspberries. I despair. The end of that sentence SHOULD have been… ‘pizza’, or ‘packet of biscuits’, or ‘family sized bag of crisps’.
I’ve started taking matters into my own hands by making him decadent smoothies made from full-fat milk, banana, greek yoghurt, honey and peanut butter. He says they are ‘ok’. Ok? This drink is a coronary bypass in a glass. Delicious!
During the past week he gained 0.2kg which I consider to be a tiny victory. I just need to keep up the good work.