Sunday, July 15, 2012

Planning 2.0


                The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray…..



I thought I had it all figured out.  Chemo was done and over with and I was ready to get back to what I considered my normal—or rather my new normal.  True, I was looking at 30 days at the Glow Place, but still, how hard could it really be?  All I had to do was lie down and assume the radiation position and I was good to go.  Besides, I had been told by those who have traveled this path before me—radiation is a piece of cake, so I was ready.  My plan—yup—there I went with the planning again and dare I say I love having my trusty day planner back in my life—but I digress…back to my plan.  My plan was to work as many hours as I could and get to the Glow Place each day for my standing 4:30pm appointment.  Silly, silly me—I kind of forgot God was in charge and was not ready to let me go just yet.

 I had heard radiation made you tired but I thought there was no way on this earth I could ever be more tired than I had been during chemo.  And I even voiced it; more than once too.  Another lesson I apparently have not learned…never, ever say there is no way as there is always a way.  Granted it is not the sick chemo fatigue; it is a fatigue of its own.  And there is no escaping it.  I come home from radiation and all I can do is nothing.  Nothing at all—which explains the lull in blogging as well as all the other things I really planned on catching up with.  At the risk of snide comments, I can’t think when I am this tired nor can I comprehend anything.  I thought it was getting better, but it’s not.  The druggy chemo haze is gone and has been replaced with, as Pooh says, fluff.  My mind is fluff.  As in cotton; not as in marshmallow fluff. 

  Again, I am being forced to face reality; this includes not always driving myself to radiation and not working as many hours.  However, I am well enough to realize the tone of voice from a certain unnamed Assistant Library Director when I admitted I need to cut back on my hours… yes, you can hear smirking over a phone line.  Not to mention the “I knew you would give in to people driving you “uttered by another nameless person who also had that gloating tone of voice.  And to top it all off, I sit down to get my nails done and Kim says “I was told to tell you you need to slow down”.  Luckily she did not say it in the tone of voice I am sure it was said to her in.  Gee people, give me a break here… you too would like to have your normal back if you were in my shoes. 

 I just realized I have not really talked about radiation.  Really is anti climatic after all I have been through.  But it is a necessity and honestly, while the drive is a bit old, the people and the other patients are wonderful. Here is the lowdown:  I sign in and grab my bagged gown (we have a Ziploc with our name on it and we keep the same gown for a week.  Hint: always grab a purple gown, the others do not tie well and goodness knows we don’t need to see boobs hanging all over the place).  After changing you go to the little waiting room and if you are lucky there are only one or two people waiting so it goes rather quickly.  However, the radiation department at Zimmer flooded the other week and for 7 days they sent some of their people to Coastal—where I am.  While it did delay us, we did have fun in the waiting room—especially last Thursday.  There were 4 of us—all who had seen each other before, but only 2 of us really talked.  There we were, all comparing not only lingering side effects, but hair growth.  Jane’s chemo stopped in April so she has the most hair—we were all admiring it when she took her wig off—I was next and they all admired my peach fuzz… Anita thought we were nuts and would not take off her wig ( but she did tell us she sneezed the other day and the wig went flying) and Lynn—well, she said she had been worried about the wig but now just loves it as it takes her no time to get ready in the morning.  We all agreed that was a major plus.  We had so much fun that Peter came in to ask us if we wanted to just skip the treatments and order dinner in.  

Yes, I still have lingering side effects—my legs – which had not been aching, have started back up.  Walking at times can be amusing, but I am proud to say I was walking Barley (the Ashby’s dog) the other day and we made it to the corner and almost to the next corner before I told him to turn around.  It was a major accomplishment for me.  I was even tempted to ride my bike—of course that did not last long.  Maybe someday soon.  As for my hair—it’s growing and maybe by Christmas I will have the guts to wear it without the wig… Kim says October but I think she just wants to dye it pink for Breast Cancer Awareness. 

I can’t say it enough; I am so thankful for everyone around me… and especially thankful for Dr K.  I never realized that during the entire treatment he kept telling me (and Mom) that he just wanted to keep me safe

1 comment:

  1. Normal is relative - what is normal for me is not normal for you. Normal is ever-changing - what was normal for me 10 years ago is not normal for me today. Normal and the thoughts of what normal is only serve to make what today is unsettling. I think normal is some kind of word created to measure ourselves with and to measure others with and I'm not at all sure it is something real. I used to think normal was when life didn't have disruptions or unexpected catastrophes....since I've redefined normal to be a day and a life filled with the unexpected, I am a whole lot more content. Being content with the place I am....Paul talks about that and for most of my life I've wondered if I will every know that kind of contentment..."Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therein to be content." Philippians 4:11

    So glad you can embrace this normal for you with laughter and new friendships and an incredible belief in God.

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