Greater Expectations
Okay, first things first. I've found some more things that are helping with chemo side effects. First and foremost, XyliMelts. Game. Changer. So much so that I may just write an entire post on them. They even have non-mint ones for those who don't like their breath to be minty fresh.
The two days after I wrote Rage against (look at me being all self-referencial and stuff with my links to my own blog) were phenomenal, y'all. Like, off-the-charts great.
To be clear, I still felt like $#!+ on a shingle. However, I got up, walked our dog (Linus) for a half-hour (he's loving this, btw, even if he does only have three paws--yes, we have a tripod dog), and then got after it. I got so much done.
For the longest time, I have resisted (read, fought to the death) the idea of getting organized. Even worse, scheduled. <shudder>
But I got up on that Thursday (I'm pretty sure it was a Thursday... days tend to blend when you're doing chemo [cue sad music]) and made a list. And it wasn't just for the day. It was a chemo/recovery checklist, filled with tasks physical, mental, emotional and spirchal (that's spiritual, for the uninitiated).
Y'all have no idea how big a deal this was for me.
Anyhoo, I made a list and checked it thrice. I did all the things! TBH, that first day was a little frenetic. I was so excited that I was accomplishing things, I kinda went nuts. It was almost like I had taken meth (the legal kind, of course, like Adderall).
The second day I was much more measured. I took plenty of cat naps (ah, pure bliss), and still got $#!+ DONE.
Then Saturday hit.
To be crystal clear,...
... I was still doing way better than I usually do. I typically get my treatments on Monday. Saturday and Sunday are my valley of the shadow of death.
So, like I said, mucho bettero (that's Spanish, y'all; my apologies to half the planet for that gringo atrocity--that was almost as bad as Taco Bell).
But.
For those two days, I had gotten the sense that I had figured this thing out. That I was beating cancer and chemo. Two birds, one stone.
**** you, Todd!
When I hit that wall--and to be clear, I hit it going 80--it hit back. Hard.
I sobbed for two hours straight. Ask my wife. She'll tell you.
It wasn't the physical stuff. I'd already realized that wasn't going away. It was the emotional impact of having to stop doing things and rest more. This wasn't the chemo kicking my @$$ and me taking it. This was me actually having to listen to my body in the moment.
That's just ****ed up, y'all. I don't like it.
Not one bit.
----------------
On our next episode, I go fishing for compliments.
Next post.
Second, cold showers. I know; I hate them, too. But they seem to help.
Finally, Ice Breakers Sours. They don't use the xylitol, so they aren't as nice as the XyliMelts, but they're considerably cheaper, and tart. Enough so that I can't eat too many at once. It ends up making my mouth raw, which is totally counterproductive. But fantastic for keeping your mouth moist (why is that word so gross? I may have issues, y'all).
 |
| Miss Havisham ain't got nothin' on me. |
The two days after I wrote Rage against (look at me being all self-referencial and stuff with my links to my own blog) were phenomenal, y'all. Like, off-the-charts great.
To be clear, I still felt like $#!+ on a shingle. However, I got up, walked our dog (Linus) for a half-hour (he's loving this, btw, even if he does only have three paws--yes, we have a tripod dog), and then got after it. I got so much done.
For the longest time, I have resisted (read, fought to the death) the idea of getting organized. Even worse, scheduled. <shudder>
 |
| Srsly. Worst nightmare. |
Y'all have no idea how big a deal this was for me.
Anyhoo, I made a list and checked it thrice. I did all the things! TBH, that first day was a little frenetic. I was so excited that I was accomplishing things, I kinda went nuts. It was almost like I had taken meth (the legal kind, of course, like Adderall).
The second day I was much more measured. I took plenty of cat naps (ah, pure bliss), and still got $#!+ DONE.
Then Saturday hit.
To be crystal clear,...
 |
| Like theses waters, y'all. I want to go to there. |
... I was still doing way better than I usually do. I typically get my treatments on Monday. Saturday and Sunday are my valley of the shadow of death.
So, like I said, mucho bettero (that's Spanish, y'all; my apologies to half the planet for that gringo atrocity--that was almost as bad as Taco Bell).
But.
For those two days, I had gotten the sense that I had figured this thing out. That I was beating cancer and chemo. Two birds, one stone.
**** you, Todd!
When I hit that wall--and to be clear, I hit it going 80--it hit back. Hard.
I sobbed for two hours straight. Ask my wife. She'll tell you.
It wasn't the physical stuff. I'd already realized that wasn't going away. It was the emotional impact of having to stop doing things and rest more. This wasn't the chemo kicking my @$$ and me taking it. This was me actually having to listen to my body in the moment.
That's just ****ed up, y'all. I don't like it.
Not one bit.
----------------
On our next episode, I go fishing for compliments.
 |
| Whoa. Now that's fishing. |
I was gonna say... don't overdo it. But when I read "This was me actually having to listen to my body in the moment." I realized that I don't need to tell you anything. You already know the score. But I do feel like I need to say something anyway. I hope you will forgive me. May something of what I am about to say be helpful to you...
ReplyDeleteJust listen to your body and give it what it needs. If that's 10 naps today, so be it. If that's walking 1/2 a mile and mowing the lawn, so be it. But listen first. Talk to your body. Ask it what it needs and then listen for the answer. And don't second-guess yourself if you come up with some crazy shit. "A hot dog from 7-11?!? Why would that be good for me?" Don't question it. Just ask, listen and do. OK? Mentally, envision yourself in partnership with your body. Together, you and your body can patiently and lovingly, yet firmly eradicate the cancer which has established an unwelcome residence in your body. The cancer is an invader. It was not invited. It is not wanted. It is not welcome. It cannot stay without your permission. And you most certainly do not give permission!! This is your body and you get to make the rules. So kick Todd out. Say it out loud.
"I am kicking Todd out of my body right now." Say it ten times a day if you want. The more the better. Kicking Todd out, I'm kicking Todd out... And then trust that your body knows the fastest way to make that happen, and be grateful.
One final note. You can kick Todd out... that is your right. But send him with love. I know it sounds a little weird, but I'm telling you... there is power here. Try it! And hey, if that doesn't work, there's always defenestration...
I love this, Jarom! Seriously. I'm learning to listen, and the process of learning is long and the curve is huge. Today, I didn't want to go out and walk. That felt crazy. Instead, I wanted to write. So, Imma write. I may walk later. Maybe not. Who knows?
DeleteThat feels really scary to me. I'm a perfectionist with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. I'm starting to see that it's one of my biggest character defects. I check out when I get in that headspace. I'm no longer present in my body or with anyone else.
The whole sending with love thing makes a lot of sense to me. In my writing, I tend toward hyperbole, but I'm also wanting to become more honest and kind, to myself as well as to everyone else. That's never been a thing for me.
I appreciate your support and encouragement.