I developed a mysterious rash just after chemo. It doesn't hurt or burn or itch, but it looks red and blistery and nasty. I did what every lucky cancer patient does. I called my aunt, who just happens to be my oncologist's nurse practitioner.
I answered a few questions over the phone on her commute home from work, and we ruled out a few culprits (the most satisfying was shingles) and she told me to start taking my steroids again, and I promised to follow up at my blood test visit.
Day one back on steroids, I felt positively chipper. I had more energy, I felt focused, I got lots done at work. It was awesome.
Then night fell. Then bedtime came and went. I was still energetic, focused, and wide awake. I finally was able to slip into a fitful sleep mere hours before having to wake up and do the damn thing again.
Day two, similar, but less pronounced energy, focus, ability to function at work. I still felt great-ish (not quite 100%, but hey, I just had chemo, so I wasn't disappointed in the lack of miracles.) My rash died down to a dull pink. Still there, but fading. And I still couldn't sleep. It's a bizarre feeling for me, because I normally sit down for longer than a few minutes and start to feel rather sluggish.
I let my aunt inspect my rash after my lab results were finished, and she prescribed a gel to help clear it up. I'm not above being vain at this point. I really just want the rash gone. I already have enough going on without fretting about where to buy a burka in September in the dirty hot south. My aunt said to try the gel and if it doesn't work in a few days, she has an antibiotic that might do the trick.
I tucked my trusty Rx in my giant purse and planned to fill it today after work.
As I am wont, I changed my plans at the last minute. MJ started feeling unwell last night, and I was *sure* she was getting sick, and at the most inopportune time for both of us, really. And I was in no condition, mentally/physically/physiologically, to play nursemaid for her like usual. I decided to take my lunch break to fill my prescriptions and shop for a "heal thyself" bag of goodies while I waited on my Rx.
I walked around Target for about 45 minutes, collecting potions and pills, snacks and lunches suitable for both of us, and by the time I made it back to the pharmacy to pay, all I really wanted to do was stretch out on the counter and sleep for a few hours. I was beat! In 45 minutes!
I was stunned. (confused, angry, and disappointed quickly followed)
I felt betrayed by my own body.
I managed to make it to MJ's office, and presented her with her get well package. I ate my lunch while trying not to let myself ooze into the couch. I contemplated staying home and not returning to work, but I just couldn't justify it. I rested for a little while until I had the energy to make the trip back across town to finish up what I *had* to finish at work. I ended up leaving work about an hour and a half later than my usual time. I finished what I needed to finish, and brought home what I could work on away from my desk.
I ditched 95% of the plans I had for tonight. It's a very small victory, and I mean that, because I realized that I can no longer force myself to do much of anything if my body doesn't want to cooperate.
If my body's not in the game, my will must simply acquiesce.
....and I'm ready to get a full night's sleep.....
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