Thursday, March 17, 2011

The Road to Recovery

My apologies for being absent from the blog for so long.  It doesn't seem possible that it has been 7 weeks since I posted; maybe, that is because I've been stuck on the road to recovery.

Post-treatment recovery is like a long car ride to normal. “Am I there yet?” keeps running through my brain. Plus, will I recognize it when I arrive. Improvement is like a rest stop where I can once again ask “Is this the new normal?”

In the last month, I’ve had major improvement with the hot flashes. Instead of many a day, I am now going days without hot flashes. Does this mean the chemo-induced menopause is coming to an end? I certainly hope so. It is so nice to sleep through the night and not wake up in a puddle of sweat.

My energy level is still not where I want it to be. A dog walk leaves me exhausted and weak. I’m still falling asleep most nights well before 9pm and 8 hours of sleep just doesn't feel like enough.  I’m hopeful this isn’t the new normal. I want more energy.  I want to be back out running and just a little closer to my old self.

This week, I returned to volunteering for the Probate Court.  Maybe by returning to normal activities, I can trick my body into feeling normal.  You know, fake it until you can make it :-)

The worst part about the road to recovery is the speed bumps.  Life before a diagnosis of cancer has the same speed bumps.  Maybe it is a sore throat or pain in one spot or the other.  Before cancer, you just ride over the bump, no big deal.  After cancer, these bumps leave you wondering, is it more than just a sore throat? Is that pain something more than just pain? 

For now, I will celebrate each good day and focus on the glimmers of good in each bad day.  Most importantly, I will keep my eyes on the road to recovery and hopefully soon I will spot the express lanes.


  1. You're singing my song sweetie!! Take is slow, after chemo sometimes harder than during because there is so much activity during chemo you don't have time to process, plus you are the center of attention. After you're done with the chemo, it is waiting and hoping it doesn't come back, checking lumps and worrying. I think the illness is more about what's going on up in your head rather than a physical one. The physical/chemo part is easy, the mental anquish and PTSD (yes, I had it) is the real battle IMHO!

  2. Sharon, I totally get the PTSD. As soon as I knew I was headed to the cancer center for my port flush, I was physically ill: light headed, nauseous and gagging. I'm hoping each trip will be a little easier. If not, thank goodness for Xanax.