With trying to walk. Without my nifty walker, I can’t make it 10 meters before my heart rate goes over 130. Like I had done a sprint. After 30 meters I was in danger of blacking out, my blood pressure sinking to 85. That was a bad day when they recorded that, I have been better since. But I don’t think walking on my own two feet I can escape that radius of exhaustion and near blackout weakness. I mean this is what I have felt on nearly every walk I have taken since I have gotten out of the hospital. Except when the steroids kick in, I guess, God bless steroids, everyone of last one of them. The idea here or my rehab people's idea is little by little but I don’t want to be here long enough for that to take significant effect. Exercises they can give me to take home instead?
Home home home…
Today the heart rate never got lower than 119, even after the breathing exercises. It has something to do with breathing from the diaphragm and how that will relax me. Sounds good. My Japanese wasn’t good enough to pick up why putting my hands on my stomach and breathing was helping. I felt my stomach go up, felt it go down. And? I mean I wasn’t supposed to press just feeeeeeeel—Bruce Lee’s voice cutting through everything else—well, it was easy enough.
It is the ravages chemo right? Beating up on a poor guy leaving the hospital after a month. It would be really sad, if it was me unable to get better on my own. But it’s been awhile with no chemo in my system. I guess that damage has been done and now I’m trying to recover.
Right?
I’m not here complaining about chemo, just trying to pinpoint it and say, yes, from all the time Hulk was rampaging in my house, rebuilding's going to take some time. At least it looked like one of those blows connected with Loki (Avengers reference, the whole paragraph).
Takes time. Long view. But sometimes it is hard not to worry. What if I do only have a year left and I spend it either weak from chemo or weak or worse from dying. Damn it, I want to live. Live normally, in this one year scenario. At least for a couple weeks, a month, maybe more…
Don’t like thinking like this. Scares the fuck out of me (though the visual image I have to accompany it is a big ol slice of Costco pizza, not the best but big and nostalgic tasting).
No doubt this is scary stuff, the monster that lurks under the beds of adulthood, but I am glad it sounds like you still have your fighting gloves on, even if your cape (the bedazzled one) is in the wash. And, whatchew talkiin' 'bout? Not the best? Costco pizza? Such sacrilegious words should never be uttered together in the same sentence!
ReplyDeleteThanks. I love my bedazzled cape. I guess that's the problem. I had it in the wash and then I got afraid of Mr. Pennydreadful (my character in the Dark Backwards). I need it like Linus needs his blanket I guess. And exactly, what other pizza could compete with Costco's. None for me. I'm hungry now
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