“You look great!” says my oncologist and pretty much every medical professional I interact with. “Thanks! I’ve been hitting the gym hard”

Every one in the room smiles. Exercise is known to reduce risk of re-occurrence. It’s true, I have been hitting the gym hard.

What I don’t mention is the fact I didn’t eat yesterday.

“You’re so lean” remarks my plastic surgeon. I look at him like he’s fucking crazy, still not fully adjusted to accepting that I am slim.

Breast cancer treatment, ovarian suppression and endocrine therapy ALL cause weight gain. There are posts all over every community: “why can’t I lose weight?” Most breast cancer patients will gain 25-40 lbs through the process. Once your body is thrown into menopause at a young age, that weight becomes very stubborn. All of us slim women will jump on their questions and start touting starvation intermittent fasting.

The fast. There is no doubt that it works. It sounds so fancy and non-disordered when you call it “intermittent fasting”

Two things come to my mind. The famous Kate Moss quote: “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” and a guy I dated decades ago who said his grandma finished her years living on nothing but vodka and orange juice. Drunk and disordered, both of them.

“You look great!” I tell an online cancer friend after viewing her abs in a bikini. She replies that she’s always hungry but that’s just how it is. I press the instagram DM heart in agreement. #metoo

We’re in the same club

It’s over martinis with another survivor where we both confess that the bar provided bowl of goldfish is the first thing either of us have ate today.

We’re in the same club.

I’ve slowly learned that most women who are staying small through breast cancer treatment are doing so by extreme fasting. I am one of them.

Is it disordered? It’s hard to tell for me. I love food but I also have no appetite when I’m upset. I can crush some tacos or pizza but the next day I’m only going to consume 300 calories. In April/May when I simultaneously ended my second surgery recovery and had my heart broken, I became very dedicated to the art of the intermittent fast. I regularly pulled an 18/6 or a 20/4. I had apps and timers. Terms that only make sense to other fans of the fast. I dropped the chemo weight quickly. I’m now slightly below my diagnosis weight.

Every time the ex has popped back in my city, my life, my bed and my daughters scale of favorite people, only to leave again and rip my wounds freshly open… I get better at it. Throwing my ptsd/endocrine therapy emotional swings into control over that which I can control. Finally pulling multiple 23/1 fasts per week. Finally seeing my scale below 120 for the first time since high school. A 24 hour fast is not even difficult for me now.

C-O-N-T-R-O-L

My BMI is 21. Certainly not too small. A healthy weight range. However, it’s one that requires me to aggressively avoid food for multiple days per week. I eat normally a few days and then fast and repeat. Thank you cancer treatment and the metabolism of a 65 year old. As estrogen is carried in body fat, a healthy BMI is incredibly important for survival for those of us who are ER+. However I feel like a fraud trying to give advice to others. Yes, I’m small-ish. Yes, I might have a disordered relationship with food and control.

I can tell you how to do it, but I’m not sure I should.

I’m probably doing it all wrong.

#cancerconfessions