How low can you go?

For me, that number would be 108 pounds on a 5'10" skeletal frame. As predicted, the Prednisone is burning calories faster than I can suck them down in a chocolate milkshake a day or wolf them down in the form of 12" Philly cheese-steak sandwiches from Fredo's.

A BMI (body mass index) of under 18.5 is considered underweight; mine is now 15.5. My size 2 tall Abercrombie jeans hang on me like gangsta' pants. I have 22 pounds to gain before I reach my goal weight of a lean 130 pounds. That goal is especially daunting when I keep slipping backwards on the scales.

Dizziness continues to torment me. I ate a hearty breakfast and drank lots of water before my appointments at City of Hope this morning. I continued hydrating while waiting for appointments and was careful to rise slowly, but nothing seemed to help.

Dr. Forman asked if I would be OK walking back to my car from the clinic. I assured him that I traveled from resting bench to resting bench and felt confident I was up to the task. But I wasn't. I scheduled my appointments for next week and then walked slowly to my first rest stop, an overstuffed chair by the elevator. PLOP! There I sat for 45 minutes, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. "You can do this," I coached myself. At last, I rose slowly, felt woozy and sank back down again.

Ten minutes later, I gave it another shot. I took a few steps and, as luck would have it, my new friends from Lancaster passed by and greeted me just in time. I latched on to the mom to keep from buckling down. Another kind woman observing the scene made arrangements for wheelchair service.

Today's chest x-rays did not show improvement, but my eosinophils are back down to normal, thanks to the Prednisone. That's a good thing. I'm so desperate to feel like myself again.