Wednesday Moan

A little update to let you know that impatience seems to have no effect whatsoever on the rate at which I start to feel better.  I am pleased that the reduced dose of meds is having the desired effect--but clearly there is an expectation in my heart that now I should be back to normal and doing whatever the hell I want.  

Ain't happening.  I am tired and weak--and an adventurous trip to the supermarket is out of the question.  I know there is a zen-like way I could be surrendering to this desire to rest (ie I could lie down and sleep without making a song and dance about it), but I find myself resisting and whining and struggling.  It's a good thing it's not winter, or I would have tried to put on pantyhose today just to prove I could still do it.  If I wanted.

This has got me thinking about rhythms when you are ill.  There's the dailiness of which meds when; of whether this is a nurse or  a not-nurse day; of whether the heartburn is typical week 3 post-chemo irritation.  It looks like my expensive shot in the ass knocks me out in predictable ways for about a week, and chemo knocks me out for a different week.

Thank God I'm only on 2 big things a month.  

 Getting used to these changes and learning to understand what they do--and do not--mean is a whole new thing.  I understand fully why the ancient soothsayers pawed through the entrails of chickens.  What does this new thing signify?  Do I need to pay attention to that belch or twinge?  Does it matter that if I'm going to have pain, it's more likely to start in the late afternoon?  

It's a fine line between attention and neurosis.  Maybe I'll just lie down on top of it for a while instead of trying to walk it!

I may get behind on phone calls and emails for a few days till I can get both eyes to consistently stay open at the same time.  Don't worry, though.  I haven't gone far!