Should I Be Pleased or Frightened? Perhaps Both

Tomorrow is my check-up with my oncologist, so yesterday I got scanned. But the scan was the least important -- to me, anyway -- part of the appointment. The important part of the appointment came right at the start. When they weighed me. 

In the thirty-three days since I was last weighed, I've lost twenty pounds. I was 249.5 pounds on the 7th of July, and I weighed 229.5 pounds yesterday.

I'd be lying if I didn't say part of me is pleased. Frankly, I could stand to lose another twenty. Although how many pounds I've got is probably less of an issue than the fact that not an ounce of any of them is muscle. 

But that's the vain part of me. The smart part of me is more than a little worried. No one loses twenty pounds in a month without trying unless there's a problem. I can try to persuade myself that I lost the weight as a result of all the walking we did in the UK, but, yeah, no. I've taken plenty of trips that've included plenty of walking and not one of them came with a twenty pound weight loss.

The likelier answer is the lack of eating that started on the trip. Which is all well and good, except I'm not really sure why my appetite disappeared.

More important, I'm not sure how to get it back. 

I hope my oncologist has a few ideas, or I'm going to waste away (after I lose another twenty or thirty pounds). I guess I'll find out in the morning.