Momentary Pause

I didn't sleep well last night. Since this whole thing started, I've had a much tougher time falling or staying asleep. This morning, after tossing and turning (and having J toss and turn with me all night--Neil had long ago departed for the couch in search of more restful sleep) I stumbled downstairs to see the morning. Neil and I sat in the living room, drinking tea and enjoying the quiet start to the morning. Today has been different. There was no hustle and bustle of trying to get everyone up and out the door for school and infusion. There was just quiet reflection and enjoying each other's company while waiting for our little world to wake up. Today was different because for the first time in 3 months(!) I didn't have to hurry to a doctor's appointment*. 

Last week, I started the 2nd round of my chemo. The first 4 days were every bit as difficult as I thought they'd be. Friday-Monday saw me the most tired I've been in 3 months. The neulasta made me ache in unexpected ways. Mostly, I just felt like it was too much work to lift my legs--I felt similar to having a tough leg workout. I was living with a constant fog in my head; just too hard to think concretely about anything for an extended period of time. Tuesday felt a bit better and by Wednesday, I felt pretty normal. I could walk without feeling like I had run a 1/2 marathon, my head was more clear and I actually had some energy again. Now, here I sit a week out and I'm feeling pretty good. 

This is tenuous, though. While I appreciate the momentary pause between treatments, I see how hard this extended break can be, too. When you go every week, you have a natural cycle that ebbs and flows. You become accustomed to the rhythms of chemo and recovery. There's not a lot of time to feel "normal" or "well" before you get right back to it. With this round (and this week in particular), I have enough space in between rounds to feel normal and to actually begin to dread the next session. Two weeks is a long time in cancer-world. It's just long enough for me to get accustomed to feeling well and begin to buck against what I know to be inevitable. I don't want to go back to foggy-can't-move-my-legs-Mary. I know, though, that this uncomfortable-ness is really only short-term. I can see the end of the road and March is really just around the corner. In some ways, I feel like it's pretty fitting that I'll be ending my treatment just as the winter is ending. I've always enjoyed Spring the most and it feels pretty hopeful that this is the season that will be greeting me at the end of this series and surgery. 

<3

~M

*Side note: V's school was off today due to teacher grading day, so it was doubly nice to move at our own pace for once in the morning. Also, Neil and I have continued to partner with our employers to continue to work from home (him full days and me 3 hours on Fridays), even on the days I don't have chemo.