Appropriate Celebrations

Sunday night, just before bedtime, I realized I was scheduled for two MRIs (lumbar and thoracic) early the next morning. So, we left the house at 6:15 yesterday morning to make my appointments. The rest of the day is a blur; I am sure I slept quite a bit, but otherwise I do not recall much about the day—though mi novia and I watched a tad of an Agatha Christie mystery, featuring Hercule Poirot, last night. This morning, I woke late—about 7:30—and made avocado toast for breakfast. A short while later, because I felt extremely weak and tired, I went back to bed. I drifted in and out of sleep until just shy of 11:30, when I decided I had better get up…so I did. And that describes the extent of my experiences since Sunday night. Those experiences—the enormous amount of sleep and the exhaustion/fatigue—are increasingly common as one’s chemotherapy continues; according to what I read. The more I read about cancer and its treatment, the more I learn that my reactions to ongoing chemo is normal. Day after tomorrow, Thursday, I will have another chemo session. The doctor’s calendar suggests it will last three hours; from experience, I know to expect at least four hours and maybe five. I used to believe the effects of chemo would begin to disappear within three or four days following treatment; I know better now. It’s almost as if I can count on only a few truly normal days between treatments, which are administered three weeks apart. And my expectation that I would undergo four chemo sessions has been erased; I am not sure just how many treatments I will receive, nor how long it will take to complete them.

Maybe I will know more after Thursday. But a substantive update will probably have to wait until at least this week’s treatment and the one that follows in three weeks. I am tired of being tired; but my experience thus far has not been especially difficult, so I will try not to complain. It is what it is. Eight-plus months, so far, dealing with the recurrence of my cancer, with two bouts of pneumonia thrown in the mix. Try as I might, it’s not easy to avoid being depressed from time to time. Looking outside, I see beautiful blue skies. The outdoor temperature is 79°F. If I had more energy, I would enjoy soaking in the wonderful weather, but even a short walk would leave me winded and weak. If I had more energy, I might scream. But I need to conserve what little I have for celebrations when they are appropriate.