29 May 2013: Post-Chemo Note on Weight

My combination of one or two workouts per day including a first-thing workout, and the chemotherapy at Queen Mary, has resulted in weekly and even daily improvements.

However, during my last chemo visit three weeks ago, my weight was down shockingly: I weighed, as a male of 6 feet 2 inches, all of 130 pounds.

The recommended weight for my height? 175 pounds

The average weight for my height of actual American makes? Large and in charge: 230 pounds.

On this visit I had gained five pounds, and I had made certain to eat all or most food served except for toxic and queer vegetables. I sup all me congee, the Egg is Eaten, the rice and fish and chicken (which often contain a vegetable) is eaten completely tous les jours (TLJ). And as I return to physical ability including the ability to walk and stand up, I can now visit the Circle K for snacks such as my comparative study of Snickers and M & Ms, or Snickers and Hershey’s “Special Dark” chocolate balls at 65% cacao. I cannot get my favorite, Lindt chocolate with bigh levels of Cacao that reduces the sweetness; in the case of 90% cacao, to a strong after blast following hard on a deep bitterness which is as complex and surprising as a fine wine.

Hershey’s chocolate “Special Dark” balls are a pale imitation dating from that company’s desire, in the 1980s, to keep from losing market share to Swiss chocolatiers penetrating the Yuppie market of the early 1980s, fleeing domestic brand names such as Budweiser and Hershey’s. It was introduced by this laughably pretentious advertising sound byte: “a chocolatier’s tribute to x”, embedding the ridiculous idea that one could be a cynosure by buying the right goods, a ridiculous idea so characteristic of the 1980s. Which “thing of darkness I acknowledge mine”, for I am penurious today precisely because I spent money on clothes and food to define myself as (Eeeeek! No! No! Yes..sadly yes) as a Yuppie, not one of the common herd.

“Oh you are sick of self-love, Malvolio” – Twelfth Night.

Today, my chocolate feasts to regain some weight, so sharply pleasurable, come after ten years of no chocolate at all with nothing really health-wise to apparently show for it except eek! prostate cancer. The whole equation of slenderness and a hot body (and I was called a hottie in my day, and the staff here refers to me as Leung Zai, Cantonese for “Handsome Boy”) this equation of hotness with long term health is, in my case, refuted. You are just slender and hot but this is no protection against cancer, a numbers game, a random event that doesn’t care that you are such a Handsome Boy.

Unto the Deid gois all Estatis,
Princis, Prelattis, and Potestatis,
Baith rich and poor of all degre:—
Timor Mortis conturbat me.



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