Today is Sunday and chemo was Wednesday. When I first began chemo, the Thursday after chemo I rode high on the waves of steroids I get with my infusion. I felt dizzy with energy that first Thursday. After round two, I felt solid in the morning and was in bed for the afternoon. This week, I can feel the compounding fatigue of chemo in my bones and brain. Thursday, I slept until 11:30 a.m. and was awake until I napped again from 2-3:30 p.m.
Mike and I went out along the Blackfoot River yesterday to forage for mushrooms. Before March 1, I wanted to run in the Prickly Pear's Don't Fence Me In Trail Race that was also happening yesterday. I wanted to try the 30k but that is not possible right now. There is a 5k option but I don't trust my tiredness to keep my feet straight in a jumble of other runners/walkers.
We came too early to find morels, but we did get to see how the Blackfoot changed from two weeks ago. The melt is on and the water is turbid with debris floating down. Last time, each stone was visible in the clear water.
We walked the banks and looked for willow or cottonwood areas to find the sweet decay that pops mushroom. Eventually, we found one meandering stream that may hold mushrooms in the coming weeks once it warms up. We drove into hail-like snow and will need more warmth for mushrooms to be ready.
The sweet decay smells that come between winter and spring filled the woods. We saw eagles and cranes wafting on the breezes. A herd of elk was on an open hillside. The life of spring and ongoing cycles of growth and death were intertwined. It feels so good to feel the seasons and the in-between. Last week, I was able to hike on Mount Helena and Mount Ascension and smell the pines and their wet pine needles nestled in granite. I saw my first Pasque flowers and a shooting star.
This fatigue is throughout. Walking over logs, I felt like my reflexes, agility, and clarity was equally turbid as the river. I mix adjectives and nouns and my steps fall with delay. It's really odd being so tired. It feels surreal and "other dimensional."
Days of slow meandering are my best option to move and be outside. Mike can amble around and I laid down and watched the eagles and cranes coast on the air tides ahead. Sitting by moving water is always medicinal.
I don't know what my body will be like after chemo. I am being gentle and honoring this slogging fatigue. I miss feeling acute in my movements and energy. I want to be able to build back. It has only been two months and one week since my diagnosis and I see so many changes. My resting heart rate is up 15 beats per minute. A cardiologist said that it would take two years to be able to get back to my pre-cancer form. When I am very tired, I can feel my lungs expand expand with a volume that I am not familiar with. I used to sip oxygen narrowly and now I've pillows for lungs.
The adjustments continue.
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