Chemo is No Joke

It feels like I'm underwater. Every motion, most every thought, takes a little more effort to complete.

At the grocery store today, I walked into the men's room by mistake. I stared at a urinal for several seconds, perplexed, before realizing my error. Luckily, there were no witnesses.

My scalp is achy and tingling. Though there are no physical manifestations yet, I can already feel my hair letting go. My stomach, my throat, my entire digestive tract feels wrong.

When I sit down on the couch, the idea of getting up again seems like a stretch. All this, after just one dose!

But there is a flip-side. For instance, at four this morning, I found myself lying awake, eyes wide, longing to play my guitar. I have not picked up the guitar in months, but this morning in the dark, though my body was heavy with fatigue, I was anxious to get to it.

I didn't. Not today anyway.

Instead I did this:

I joined J~ in his early morning-yoga routine. It's been a very long time; my guitar is less dusty than my early-morning yoga practice. Though my body still felt weighted, I was surprised to find reliable strength in my limbs.

  

After Jim left for work, I did a little work at the computer and ate a strategically orchestrated breakfast, exactly what my body seemed to be asking for, and exactly what my mind believed would turn my chemo-rusted digestive gears: cabbage, lettuce, avocado, broad beans, spicy kimchee, fresh-squeezed lemon, cracked pepper, and olive oil. (It tasted good, but it didn't work.)

 

At the pool soon after, I discovered that the aforementioned "reliable strength in my limbs" had vanished. I was leaden, but at least I was staying afloat.

After a shower and a change of clothes (I've been wearing the same outfit since I got home from chemo), it was time to drive brother D~ to the airport. We met another brother, A~, for lunch along the way.

D~'s Thanksgiving visit turned into an extended distance-working/cancer-helping stay. His presence was a pleasure. He will be missed.

California, keep him safe.

With a blizzard on the way tonight, I ran some essential errands and headed home, where I taught my stepson how to build a fire in the wood stove, paid some bills, kissed my husband, ate some dinner, talked on the phone, and updated the blog.

I'll admit it, dinner was hard. I wanted to sink into the couch and never get up. But my stomach felt like an acid black hole and I was afraid I wouldn't feel good for long if I didn't do something about it.

Luckily, Millie got her walks today from friends and neighbors, and J~ got a nap before heading off to the gym himself. If all goes according to hopes, there will be a snow-day for all of us tomorrow, and he will be around and energized so I can rest.

In the meantime, I will go once again to bed and hope tomorrow feels just a little bit less chemo-icky.

 

Good night all!