Camera- Unhealthy

I put on nearly three hundred pounds that day. By evening, I could barely walk.
“It’s an allergic reaction,” Mom said.
I stared at her. “Excuse me? What’s that?”
“You ate something you’re allergic to,” she answered. “A person doesn’t swell up
like a balloon overnight.”
...
Her jeans and T-shirt appeared to be about ten sizes too big! Her arms were as
thin as toothpicks. Her face was pale and puckered. Her head had shrunk. It looked
like a tiny lemon on her frail, noodlelike body.
“Greg,” she whispered weakly. “Is that you in that big body?”
“Shari!” I cried. “How much weight have you lost?”
“I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “Look at me! I’m shrinking away. I’m so
light. It took me hours to walk to school this morning because the wind kept pushing
me back!”
“Are you sick?” I cried.
She frowned at me. “I’m not sick, and neither are you,” she replied in a tiny, frail
voice. “I’m shrinking away, and you’re bloating up—and it’s because of those photos
we took.”
I sighed and lifted my huge stomach with both hands so that I could get through
the doorway. “What are we going to do, Shari?” I whispered. “It’s those photos.
You’re right. But what are we going to do?”
...
He tsk-tsked as I climbed on the scale. But he couldn’t get my weight. The scale
didn’t go high enough!
He had trouble listening to my heartbeat. His stethoscope got stuck in the folds of
flab over my chest.

Chapter 20, 21