Chronic Overachiever

Day 4, cycle 1 and I still think I am capable of miracles. Fat chance.

Yesterday started as a better day, getting in a nice walk in the park — slow, but I did it, and I managed to get gas in my car (many sanitizing wipes and hand sanitizer squirts later), only to be unable to find a place or a position in which to be comfortable for the rest of the day. When they say you will be tired and achy, they aren’t messing around. Another survivor referred to the feeling as “my bones felt like glass,” which gets a good bit closer. Crashed at 8:30 p.m. and actually slept more or less until 6:30 a.m., so I thought, “sure, I’ll go to PT today, no problem.” Only it was a problem, and getting dressed required sitting down and resting on the bed — twice. But I went anyway, because, well…I have no excuses.

I’m very fortunate to be getting care at a top-tier hospital, with some significant bells and whistles, including a PT program for cancer patients. The idea behind the program is to provide cancer patients with supplemental exercise/PT in a hospital-level-of-safety environment, and my doctors thought that it would be a good supplement to walking and a way for me not to be thoroughly depressed that I can’t swim during treatment (I whined considerably). Today was evaluation day. Of course, no one told me that no one in their right mind would start this program during the first round of chemo and would, instead, start it when they had adjusted to chemo in later rounds, or even better, after chemo ended. Not me.

Needless to say, I was not up to having the evaluation, and the program manager was lovely and tried to explain to this not very bright overachiever that the program would be there for me when I was ready. I did learn that, even walking as much as I am, I’m doing better than most cancer patients during chemo, so that’s something.

So, ratchet back the expectations, see what my body can or can’t do, and roll with it. I’m sensing a theme here.

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