Not sure how I rattled Montezuma’s cage (since when was Oxford his patch?) but I obviously did and his revenge is pretty dire …This is not how I saw things panning out…so in the week when I imagined I would be gaining strength I am running (not in a good way!), bleeding (delightful gushing nosebleeds), bruising AND being sick. What a fab combo (not). And…just in case anyone imagines there are some pauses in activity to re-group – these have been filled with my diabetes playing up…so wall-to-wall entertainment for me.
Yesterday, during some non-bathroom moments I went to do my daily back exercises (as my back, too, is causing me grief) and I managed to fall asleep on the living room floor (for 40 minutes) whilst theoretically doing the exercises. I have a frightening amount of stamina to re-build at some point soon. No space to worry about that just yet but it is starting to impinge at the edges of my consciousness.
In the brief interlude between paragraph 2 and 1 I did manage to get to and eat Sunday lunch at the local pub so there are seeds of hope but still a way to go.
I had hoped (maybe rather madly) that I would now be entering a new period of “hale and hearty” (rather like in pregnancy) when I started to look glowing and fresh-faced, growing long, thick lustrous hair and hey..maybe I will. It is, after all, not yet a week since chemo but patience, particularly after this last round, is hard to summon up and I just want to forge ahead into healthier days now. Cavorting through wildflower meadows with sunshine on my face and wind in my hair was my plan for this week, but it looks like those scenes may have to be shelved for the moment. Weather girls also seem to be in on the conspiracy as they don’t seem to be forecasting warm summer days imminently – or at least not on the local forecast!