This is not my speed. I slept from 7 p.m. until 5:30 a.m. After ten hours of sleep, I am normally a power house. And I was for about four hours this morning. Then, poof. Energy gone, back to the same old Day 5 fog, ache and tiredness. After sleeping that long, I thought for sure I would be going all day. But, no. It was a quick adrenaline rush full of power. In a few short hours it left me shaky, and then wiped out. This must be “fatigue.”
I’m sitting in the basement amidst our new storage units in the guest bedroom. We bought a house with square rooms and little storage; we are not square people with a little bit of stuff. We carted lots of stuff from Chicago to Boston, and, four years later, we are still unpacking. This room is my chemo project. This morning I did manage to empty one box of games into my new storage unit. Every day I’m working in it a little bit so that by the end of chemo the basement will be organized. And like my three-year-old Liam, or perhaps more like my 89-year-old Grandma Murphy, “I’m doing it myself.” Whether moving three books to the shelves, ten games to a cupboard or one pencil to the newly found supply cabinet, my aim is to work on it throughout these chemo days until it’s full. It’s a clean plate just waiting for my touch, my design, my energy. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have a bit more energy.
For now, it’s warm tea, a warm cap, warm corn bags, warm fleece blanket, perhaps a nap… and not a lot of patience for this pace.
Staying strong but feeling ornery,