By the numbers

Like most visits to a doctor's office, every day at my oncologist's starts with me hopping on the scale.  I am always curious.  Regardless how much I eat, I can't get the numbers to go up, except on my bad weeks.  Then they jump by leaps and bounds.  And so, every day on the bad week, after being pumped full of saline and various forms of poison I pass the scale on my way out and am tempted to hop on it again, just to see how much weight I gained in the intervening 4-5 hours.  Today I went for it, and here is more information about my weight than you ever wanted to know:

Monday morning (as every Monday morning since I started this crud) I weighed 120 pounds.
Tuesday morning I weighed 124 pounds.
Wednesday morning I weighed 128 pounds.
This morning (Thursday 9:30 am) I weighed 133 pounds.
This afternoon (Thursday, 2:00 pm) I weighed 138 pounds.

Let's recap.  That's increasing my body weight by 15% in less than 4 days.  Today, while I was in the chemo room, I gained weight at a rate of more than 1 pound/hour.  But it's all the good stuff: saltwater, poison, and anti-nausea drugs. 

So I still feel the crummy kind of pudgy and at least 35% less adorable than this: