I so love the Not-treatment weeks. The days stretch out, gloriously long, filled only with good thoughts and strong feelings and the idea that I am completely fine. The feeling of fear starts to creep in around Wednesday and builds until now - Sunday night. But I went to dinner and a movie tonight and that helped - except that the father in the movie had stage 4 cancer and died from it and that was hard to hear. But the good part about the movie and dinner was I did not dwell on tomorrow very much.
People are telling me how they admire me and my bravery and courage. I must say I don't really feel brave, just sort of tenacious. I am allowing myself to sleep or take time just for me and I don't know if that is tenacious. Maybe, I think, when I feel judgmental, being so selfish is not the right way to be. Maybe I should force myself to DO more, to go to work for a longer period of time each day, to go to an exercise class and to just plain old DO more, be productive or something. But what I AM doing is going to work for just a couple of hours, going home, having lunch, taking a nap, taking Tye for a walk, going home again and watching tv until I am sleepy. Is that brave? I'm not sure.
So tomorrow I go for another treatment. I am nervous that the side effects (affects?) will get stronger and that I will not feel well. The pins and needles in my fingers gets worse each time to the degree that I could not type for a couple of days the last time. I hope it does not get much worse.
And I am fortunate that it doesn't matter if I go to work or not. The team has things under control. So if what I need to do is sleep, I can. And there is no need spending a whole lot of time worrying about the possibility (probability?) of surgery. I see the doctor in August and will find out then. In the meantime I am going to go to Vermont for a week for a break from this routine. Funny to say I "need" a break, but it is true and it will be good.
That's all for now.