March 12, 2010 – Time to call myself out!

Last night into this morning, I had what I hope was the final assault from the oral antibiotics prescribed by the Hospitalogist (don’t you love the age of specialization?)  My stomach is compromised as it is from chemo, adding in the oral antibiotics was just too much.  So let’s just say that Imodium was added to the mix, Imodium and lots of water.

We waited to see how the morning went, but at 10:00 am, we decided that the best course of action was to postpone the Cape Cod trip until next month.  We were looking forward to seeing Lynne & Alan at lunch and having the weekend by the ocean.  But my body is calling the shots.

I ended yesterday feeling very up – tired but feeling like I was headed into a sweet week of guiltless eating and feeling pretty normal.  This morning I woke without the blues of the past two mornings, but with my stomach dominating my mood.  I napped and drank water, got up and had some white toast, napped some more.  So, ok, I was well rested and hydrated, but in a funk.  And a funk is not good for someone undergoing chemotherapy.  It’s not good for anyone.  I am the only one who is control of my mood.  It is my responsibility to call myself out.  I must keep stay positive and keep a tummy ache in perspective.  Instead of worrying about how I will feel for next Thursday’s chemo treatment, I have to keep my head into today, into this hour if necessary.  You, my friends and family, help me stay positive, give me support I can draw on when I start to slip.  But it is me who must stay strong and not let myself lose perspective.

I’ll finish this later.  It’s a nice day.  I’ll take Lacey for a walk.

Lacey and I took our normal “short” route, a half hour loop through the neighborhoods.   It’s a brisk day and when the wind blows, chilly.  I’ve been away from the freezers for too long. 

I feel better.  Instead of sitting on the couch thinking about my tummy ache, I have to be doing, keeping busy.  The lesson from today is to call myself out when I start feeling sorry for myself.  I have some challenges lying ahead over the next four months.  But I have an excellent prognosis, world-class doctors at a world-class treatment facility (the radiation machine at DFCI is the only one of its kind), and superb local medical support.

Even more, I have the love, support, and inspiration from you – my friends and family.   I have so much to be grateful for in my life.  That is my focus.

Love…

Richard