Like the pain of child-birth, one forgets how tired on can get two weeks into chemo. That’s when the white blood count and red blood count is lowest.
Then it begins to recover.
So, this morning’s walk was primarily afforded to me via Kevin’s arm. It was exhausting to walk. I was sweating. I was trying to catch my breath. I knew I had to keep going – and going I did.
Funny thing that chemo. It kills your white cells – along with the cancer cells – but it is the white cells you need to fight cancer and colds. Exercise helps build white cells. But it is tough to exercise when you are tired. Hmmm. Catch 22.
I hate fatigue. Above all else – other than feeling nauseous – I hate feeling tired. It reminds me I am aging, that I am sick, and that I am not super-human. I guess that’s a good thing as it is humbling. It makes me so that I’m not cocky – thinking the battle against cancer is a cake-walk. (Not like I’ve ever thought that way anyhow)
Today’s agenda: bed rest?
Today’s agenda (alternate): gardening? (Preferred agenda)
Or maybe: chicken soup? I have a cold – to boot. I think.
I wish I knew what was best. I wish there was a definitive solution. A magic pill? I guess it’s faith and determination. I don’t want to be held down by a stupid cold.
I have one week to get stronger. One week before chemo #2. I do NOT want to be delayed. But, if I have to, well, then so be it. I will, in the meanwhile, live between chemo appointments. I think those times are what are known as “the dash”. I will live my dash – and try to live it well.
Meanwhile, this morning, maybe a little Chef Michael Smith will have to do.