2 flights of stairs...

Camp Chemo is on the third floor. I decided at the beginning to walk up both flights before my sessions if I could. So far, up to session 6 of 8, I have. So far, I can do it without resting, although there is a walk across the second floor to the second fairway that breaks the climb. What is significant, is how much harder it gets. In the beginning, I could march up with vigor, arrive at the top very slightly breathless, and recover in seconds. This last time, I climbed slowly but purposefully and arrived at the top truly sucking wind. It takes almost 10 minutes for my heart rate to return to normal and my muscles to stop aching from lack of oxygen.

I wonder how much better this would be had I been in great shape when I started. I wonder if I should push myself harder now. I have started doing Pilates again twice a week and our last session two days after chemo felt like I would kill me. Yet I could feel how good it was for my body to move and breathe hard.

Right mow, it seems I'll never again take feeling good and strong for granted. I fantasize about running hard, lifting and climbing and moving heavy objects. We will see how I feel when I do truly have to work hard to rebuild that strength. Being able to maintain the gratitude for still having that possibility will be a legacy of chemo worth having.

So, two weeks after Christmas and I am finally writing again. Why silent? I have been busy, it's true. I am working more, getting out to client meetings doing more phone coaching, etc. The kids were both home and we saw more of them and their friends. And all of the holiday stuff took time for me, as for everyone.

But mainly, I've just been tired. The chemo, as predicted, kicked my body into early menopause (temporarily or, as hoped, permanent...who wants to go through this twice?). Suddenly, I am wake up 4-5 times a night boiling hot. Gone are the restful nights I had been having despite the chemo. Between this and the cumulative impact of the chemo, I am pretty freaking worn out by now. But here I am again, your trusty correspondent from the cancer front lines.

What can I say that would be enlightening? Chemo sucks? Think you've gotten that by now! Here's what I want to be able to say: I want to report that I have discovered the secret to wavering life when I am in pain, feel like crap, fear death. If I could do that, and teach others how to, then this whole mess would feel worthwhile. But I have discovered no magic bullet to maintain inner peace and joy throughout this. Full dislosure: I am sad, angry, defeated and crabby often. I hate being tired and in pain much of the time.

But, if I have is discovered anything, it is a fierce desire not to give up or give in to the simple logic of pain and illness. I am not willing to allow my sense of well-being to rest on how I feel. I want something more sustainable, something within my conscious control, so the quality of my day and my life depends not on how tough the chemo demons that day were, or what emotions or impulses bubble up from my subconscious.

There are many books written that purport to have this key, that tell you to "only love yourself", or "find a higher purpose" "connect with others," "do yoga", "meditate," "pray," "do affirmations to train your brain." I am open to them all, trying, evaluating. At the moment, I can say only that the effort continues and that I'll let you know what I learn. No one said this would be easy! And who says easy is the point, anyway? The adventure continues...

Colleen

Colleen