This week when I started exercising on the treadmill, Robbie
asked me if I had initially been reluctant to start exercising because I was
afraid I wouldn’t be able to breath. I
hadn’t said anything to him about it, but he hit the nail on the head.
The first day I got on the treadmill, I started at a snail’s
pace. I was absolutely sure that once I
got up to a decent pace that my heart race would sky-rocket and that I’d be
gasping for air. Last year, the main symptom that signaled that I had cancer last year was an inability to breathe when
doing any kind of exertion. Even though
I was given an all-clear in August, I still worry a lot. But all was well! My heart rate certainly increased, but only
in the way it should. And I could
breath. My breathing was heavy, but I
was breathing. And I can’t tell you how
wonderful it felt.
The exercise is going great, and I’m feeling great as a
result. The first day was rough with
regards to shaky muscles, but it has gotten better each day even with an
increase in time and distance. I set a
small goal this week – to do a mile in a single session. And I accomplished that yesterday. I want to increase by a mile a week until I’ve
reached three miles in a session, and then work on increasing the speed/incline to get more
benefit.
I’m hoping by next month’s check-in with my primary care
that I’ll be doing my three miles a day and that I’ll be a few pounds down as
well. And hopefully she and I can work
on a plan for long-term health and cancer fighting strategies.
One step at a time.
Four months ago I was barely breathing.
The cancer had literally shoved my trachea out of the way. This picture shows my initial PET scan. Sorry for the clarity, this photo was taken of the Doctor’s computer screen with my cell phone. The picture is as if you are looking from the top of my head down into my body. Right in the center is my neck. The part glowing bright yellow in the middle is the cancer. The little black dot in the left of all the bright yellow is my trachea. It was supposed to be in the middle.
I am so lucky that I couldn’t breathe. So often, cancer quietly spreads with no symptoms – making it hard to discover. Way too often it’s too late. My cancer was sort of like me – it wanted to be the center of attention. It was shouting “Here I am! Here I am! I’m going to take your breathe away!” Thank you cancer, for being such a show off.
Today, I take deep breathes often. Some are sighs of relief that I am approaching my last chemotherapy session. Some of the deep breaths are just sighs of frustration that this takes so long. But mostly, I take deep breathes because I can and I’m grateful for it.
Today is a good day. Robbie and I have been married for 15 years today. Without chemotherapy, we may not have made it to this day. So thank you for this Anniversary, chemotherapy. Today I also meet with the oncologist. We will make plans for the future. Today we will talk post-chemo scans and tests. And then begins the waiting for results. Those results determine what my next few months will look like. And the waiting will suck. But as they say, good things come to those who wait.
For so long I was just trying to get through the day. Thinking too far ahead was terrifying. And I finally got to the point where I was trying to get through each chemo cycle. And after I reached about the halfway point I was focused on getting to the end of chemotherapy. Thank you, chemotherapy, for being a good distraction from the big picture. You really know how to be all-consuming. You can go now though, I’m ready to look up from the rabbit hole.
