Coughing awake at 0459 I check my temperature and discovering it 97.1˚F (36.2˚C), my mind wonders … where are my four calling birds?
Forgive me this is Chemo not Christmas and I’m still reeling from the third day … Fatigue, fatigue, and more fatigue … burnout, debility, exhaustion, weakness, weariness, and even dog-weary.
‘Slo-mow Patrick’ struggled to even get up out of chairs. Forcing liquids becomes almost a conundrum because the more I drink the more I need to pee. Standing and peeing the result of 64 oz Gatorade Blue, it was impossible not to reflect on how more fatiguing this would be for women.
In a chemo variation of stop and smell the flowers … how often do you see a “Mr. Frosty” ice cream truck fueling?
To be sure I charged into chemo following 10 brain radiation treatments and yes I should be ‘dog weary’ but who fights for their life half-assed?
Between hospitalizations, surgeries and such it seemed medical types were obsessed with swelling around my ankles, which was never a factor … until of course the day of fatigue when my ankles resembled boots and only complicated motion. Oncology nurse suggested light walking and best of all elevate feet.
Sooooo to improve my odds of sleeping I turned to the art of nesting, by sleeping in a lazy boy style chair elevating my feet and bringing back out a Christmas decoration to watch over me.
Weight loss? Yes, no, maybe. I’m at 180 lb (81.6 kg) which IMHO uniquely qualifies me to enjoy my Good Humor Chocolate Éclair Bar with my morning coffee especially as chemo fatigue appears significantly less on this 3rd morning since chemo.
post chemo clock = 60 hrs and ticking ...