Crawling Out Slowly

     I had this notion that while I was recovering from the chemo, that I would be able to sort of just, I don't know, just "convalesce" in a way that was familiar.  Reading, crocheting,  catch up on what's on the DVR...small pursuits to pass the time, interrupted by sleeping, perhaps some barfing if I were unlucky.  Some Donna Reed Figure coming in with a tray (wearing pearls and a starched dress) with some broth and flower in a bud vase--okay, not like that, but...maybe?  And it really doesn't work that way at all. There is no focus for any of that kind of "getting better."  No sitting still.  Even at the keyboard, my fingers are shaky and only a line at a time seems like as much as I can do.  Kind of funny, really, that I thought I could anticipate how it was going to be.  Different for each person, I know.  But funny that I thought I could figure it out ahead of time and be ready for it.  Touch of hubris.
     I actually made it for a walk around the block with my hubs and my dog.  That took it out of me.  Pretty depressing to feel so drained for such a minimal effort.  It's not as if I had been training for Ironman up until now, but still.  It's one thing if you fall down the stairs and have all the battle scars to prove to yourself why you aren't feeling up to par.  But when the reason is microscopic, it is hard to wrap your brain around.  But on a positive note, the fresh air was wonderful, and it helped me to get out of the house itself for a bit.
     Random notes:  So another reason why I feel like crap is that during the worst afterdays of chemo, my coffee tasted like meh.  Just meh.  So here your body is dealing with all this other chemical brew, and yet your brain is still crying out, "Are you KIDDING ME?  Where is my COFFEE?!?!"  So a little caffeine withdrawal on top of it all is a nice little cherry, I think.
     Anti-Scientology Dream Rant:  I told you about the dreams, didn't I?  So really, why oh why did I have to have a long series of dreams last night ALL including Tom Cruise who was being SUCH an ASSHOLE in each and every dream?!?  Young Tom, old Tom, doesn't matter Tom, just consistent ASSHOLE Tom Cruise over and over again!! What was THAT?!?  My subconscious must be pretty riled up about ol' Tommy for something in particular.  Well, he's a big boy.  He can handle my psychic venom. 
     Shameless Cancer Request:  I usually listen to an alternative station in the mornings driving the kids to school and, since my daughter has been driving and all this mess has churned up, I haven't heard the show (it only comes in on the one car or streaming on the computer).  So I turned it on the computer this morning, and I sent them an email requesting a song and telling them it was for me to motivate me after my first round of chemo.  And I asked for a friend-inspired shout out:  Suck It, Cancer!  And they did it for me.  And I have to confess to a far-too-large amount of juvenile guilty pleasure having them blare that out on the airwaves.  hee hee  But they also broadcast that the lead singer of the band was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago and is doing fine, so that was a great moment of serendipity, I think. (The request:  Tear It Up by Zero Zero...makes me wish I played guitar.)