1 year chemo end appointment

Hey Guys:

Well today is a big day. I have a big oncology (or is it hematology) appointment today at 1000. They always freak me out. In fact as I’m writing this I feel like crying. I can’t explain why, I just do. Probably some kind of post-stress thing, I guess.

Anyway I’ll go in at about 0930, get my blood drawn and at about 1030 I’ll go to the examining room and cool my heels for a while until the nurse practitioner comes in, feels me up, leaves. Then the doctor will come in he’ll give me the same exact examination and we’ll chat.

This is where it gets dicey. I have walked into the office feeling fine and ended up in the hospital. Other days I’ve walked in feeling poorly and was sent home. So who knows?

I’m sure I’ll be okay. I feel pretty good although my skin seems awfully delicate and I suspect that’s from low platelets. I suspect my platelets will be fewer than 70,000 (normal is about 150,000 or better). As long as they stay above 50,000 I’m okay and can still do the thing I love.

Anyway, I’ve been working hard since January to recover. I benched press 205 last week (up from zero last October), I do Pilates, I ran 3 miles without stopping the other day, and I walk for 45 minutes most lunch times. So that’s all good right?

So why do these follow up appointments freak me out so much. I get so crazy on these days I take the whole day off just to unwind from it. Geez. I guess that’s a small price to pay.

That’s it I guess. 

Pilates II

Good morning sunshines:

Well things are going pretty well.  I did another Pilate’s session yesterday and I’m only kind of miserable today.

There were about six of us yesterday lying on the floor in one of the department’s classrooms -- this one unused at lunch. The lights were off and not sure if it’s to avoid seeing me in all my middle-aged glory or if it was to set an ironic relaxing tone. There were orange and purple mats arrange in a semi-circle around the grand inquisitor (actually she is a very nice lady who takes time out to teach us this stuff; I just like being a victim).

So anyway the dispenser of pain or pleasure in chief, tells us to to stand up.  We each have a small nine inch schoolyard ball that is available at any grocery store for about $2. Mine’s pink because of my overt masculinity and the testosterone oozing from every pore; actually the were sold out of Dora the Explorer balls and I had to settle.

I am wandering.

This wonderful lady (I better say nice things in case she reads this) puts us through different exercise, but the long and the short of is you are supposed squeeze the ball, breath a certain way, and control your abdominal muscles as you go through each movement. If done with gusto,  this stuff ain’t easy. And me if I am nothing else I am full of gusto.

When I squeeze that ball my goal is to pop it. My arms quiver, my belly aches, and I can am winded from the inhaling and exhaling.

I guess that’s it.

See ya!

Bill

workout news (language warning)

Hey guys:

Well a little old lady with gray hair worn in a bun kicked my ass. I must outweigh her by  80 lbs, and more than a foot taller, and I bet I can bench press three of her. All she needed to equalize things was a little red nine inch ball you can buy at the grocery store.
Did she tie me up and pummel me like I was in a middle-school dodge ball hell? No it was even more sinister.
She clothed the whole torture in an exercise program -- Pilates (or some kind of sadistic derivative). I think it is on the CIA list of banned interrogation techniques -- somewhere between water boarding and cigarette burns. It was hideous I tell you.

I had no idea a little red ball could result in so much pain. I’ve been summoned to her hideout on Wednesday. I’m thinking about giving up my ATM pin for mercy.

That’s it for now

Peace.

Posts and courage

I was going to post something about work, then thought better of it. Suffice it to say returning to work after cancer is a very strange deal. I will keep the piece for a future post.

People get fired all the time for work posts and I don’t want to join them yet.

This a picture of a tranquil future state.

Paranorman

 I went to see Paranoman at the local Bijou last night -- that’s right we went out at night -- and it was hilarious, intellectually deep, and really some of the finest writing I’ve experienced in a great while.

I give it four out five chemo bags. 

veterans golf thing epilogue

I’ll post some pictures Monday, but my day at the golf outing for the Wounded Warrior project was a lot of fun. My friends and I came in second in the tournament. It was quite excellent. We shot -3 for the day and ended up with some groovy hats and free gold balls.  My back held out pretty well and no signs of neuropathy so that’s all cool.
Actually It was good.
I am playing again today.

I’ve begun stepping up my workout since my back has recovered somewhat.  This damn scar and the muscles un underneath it at my belly from last year’s operation have been hurting laetely. I did 60 crunches the other day; maybe that’s it.

I sometimes forget my body is till torn up and still healing.

Veterans Golf thing

It’s early. For me it’s actually the same time I usually write, but for the rest of the world it’s early.  Going to Porky’s today to play in a veterans golf tournament. I have to re-look at the flyer, because I think there is a lunch in the fee.

It’ll be about $125, but it is for a good cause. Money’s tight, but sometimes you gotta do things.

Well I am getting further and further from the cancer thing and feeling as though everything will be fine. I guess that’s what recovery is about. I still get fatigued by 1500, maybe always will.

Changing my exercise routine a bit and experimenting with the exercise ball.