Physically Phtttt

Before being diagnosed with breast cancer I rather fancied myself as an athlete. I was fit or I would be as soon as I weight lifted again and added that extra day of running…and er.. took off about 15 pounds.

I have kept records for the past five years and my weight has not changed, give or take a pound or two in either direction.

I dutifully trundle off to Weight Watchers each week, pay my fee and learn I have gained or lost ½ of a pound! I privately call W.W. Fat Losers or F.L. because that is what the weight loss program was called in the TV show called Third Rock From the Sun. But the funniest program regarding weight loss is found on Little Britain. It is so discriminatory in tone that I cringe while I snicker nervously.

When I had the lumpectomy in April 2007 my goals were to get back to walking in the morning and running at the end of the day. After about 5 weeks I could resume this level of activity, although I sensed my stamina was a little curtailed.

Then in June 2007 chemoville started and after each of the 4 treatments I would fight, fight, fight to feel normal. My friend Laurel told me her husband Hillel recovered more quickly from his chemo if he drank about 4 litres of water a day and walked around as soon as possible. So I drank litres of water (mini medical pit bull made me a check off sheet to track this) and I would walk as much as I could to help my system cleanse itself from the chemotherapy drugs. J. would call me about day 4 after chemo and remind me I would feel myself again.

As soon as my baby toes stopped hurting (no reason I could see for the pain in the toes) about a month after each chemo treatment, I could put on my running shoes again. But I could not walk in the morning and then do any other exercise – no gym, no yoga, no weight lifting…just one activity a day. The oncologist and nurse practitioner laughed at me when I complained of this. I think I was still in ‘this treatment is just for a lark’ phase because there was no evidence of cancer related fatigue. Aside from my hearing loss, lack of concentration, inability to read, and uncontrolled eye movements I left chemoville mostly intact.

Five weeks of radiation started in October. I really did not mind radiation although it does zap the energy. It is the nature of the beast that about an hour after treatment I needed to sleep for an hour.

If I was at work after the treatment I would go to the underground parkade, cuddle up with my blanket and pillow for an hour, and then head back to work, refreshed. No one knew. And, it was proof to my self that despite the nap, I was still the same.

Once all treatments were over, I thought it was all done…but no, not finished at all.

In February 2008 I went on a month long holiday. With fewer distractions I was forced to face just how fragile I was. I said to Pepsi in amazement: “Hey! I am frail.”

“Yes,” he agreed kindly. “You are for now. Just relax.”

I could walk a little ways but I needed frequents rest stops. My digestive system wheezed and whined at the slightest variety. I got sick for a week with a fever and other even more unattractive concerns that required close proximity to facilities. We resigned ourselves to foregoing any tours in buses or boats of the country side. And elephant ride was out of the question. Sigh. It was a big shock to find my new normal was a weak and frail thing.

While on holidays and at the start of this blog, I determined upon my return I would publish some writing. I am counting this blog as this goal accomplished.

Learning to play some music has not transpired. I never seem to think of it and that autoharp (don’t be afraid June Carter) is stored safely in its case.

And, lastly I registered in a half marathon with my beloved J. and her partner M, as though this would catapult me into renewed vigor and back to what I remember myself to be…an athlete.

Oh, and one last goal, I was clearing out the paper monster of 15 years of business files and packing it up to got to the shredder. It is such heavy work that I can only do it about an hour at a time but it is my goal for this year.

In tandem with this, my friend Sandra with lung cancer had a series of strokes from the cancer that had spread to her brain. She was admitted to palliative care.

Never fail for failing to start is my motto so I began to train for the half marathon in March and April 2008. Erk!! It was so hard some days I ran feeling completely light headed. Should have been a clue to yours truly but evidently not. I thought I was not eating properly so I began to eat high protein bars and forced myself to run and then run hills on top of this. An obvious point is that 20 year olds run much faster than 50 year olds. I suffered under the allusion that if I just tried harder or ate more protein bars I could keep up.

Sandra’s life continued to dwindle away despite her cheerful hopes for the future. I visited her several times a week and each time I left her side I felt heavier and heavier in my heart.

One day after my morning hourly walk I had to go back to bed for an hour. My energy completely petered out. I could go to work but when I returned I had to nap before dinner, could not even do the dishes and went to bed, after napping on the couch all evening. I hardly had the strength to take a bath. On week-ends, I spent all day in bed and then evenings on the couch. No socializing at all, except I visited Sandra. This continued for quite a few weeks. I had to withdraw from the half marathon. So my new normal became a very inactive couch potato. My image of myself as an athlete went phttt.

Sandra died May 9 and about three weeks later I noticed a small return of a lightness to my being. I am nursing this back to a full spectrum but slowly and cautiously. First I added yoga, then weight lifting and now running. I tried to nap last week end and found that I didn’t need more sleep. Hurrah!

So, carefully I am planning my return to a healthier weight and fitter physique…but gradually. I might have learned my lesson. Time will tell.