I thought I had today all planned out. Since my workshop is not heated, not the cleanest thing in the world and my immune system is nearing its lowest point, I had picked up an N95 mask and was going to expend some energy doing some light organizing up there this afternoon. We all know plans don't always turn out like we want.
Being so sensitive to smells right now, last night I was thinking ahead and as I walked past the dust mask in its packaging, I decided to pop it open and get a whiff. It's a good thing I did. It smelled like a cross between rubbing alcohol, Windex, and a tire fire. Not something I wanted to breathe through for a prolonged period of time. So as I went to bed, I cracked open the package and left the mask to sit and air out overnight, so I could be all ready for my action filled day at home.
I wake up with a "7" as the first number on the clock! I guess I am wearing down. Of course the two immediate things my chemo ridden body is begging me to do is pee and start chugging water. I drink about a pint there on the spot and lay back down. Two hours later, I wake back up. Same routine, pee and drink (just for clarification those are two separate things, I am not doing any gross stuff here). Now I know my body is slowing down. I haven't woken up to a "9" for a few days now. I decided to be healthy and fix a breakfast of one part raisin bran, one part sugar poured over the raisin bran and sit to watch my Saturday car shows on television. Not wanting to feel to lazy, I Shake Weight several times during my two hour Power Block on TV. That may have been a mistake. The Shake Weight packaging says you only need to workout six minutes a day to look like the guys on TV. I have done a month's worth of exercise today, so I may be on the cover of Muscle and Fitness for December. No, I don't really believe that, but I am trying out for the cover of Chemo and Sickness magazine.
Feeling pretty good about the way I have dominated the Shake Weight, I hopped on my nemesis from earlier this week, the elliptical machine. I had hit the 300 calorie button the other day and only made it to 100 before my incision start pulling. Actually, I really only made it to about 25 calories before I felt an uncomfortable tickle around my incision, but I slowed down and made it to 100. So today, with renewed confidence, I hopped on, and punched that 300 hundred button again...then I did one revolution and punched the 150 button. After a vigorous fifteen minutes of whimpering and moaning, I finished! And then I sat on the couched exhausted for the next hour or so. I couldn't even muster the energy to Shake Weight.
Finally I decide I should go up to the workshop and do a few things. I put on my mask, which now only has a faint smell of ammonia mixed with chlorine (don't try that at home). I am getting worn out just trying to breath through it. It is a quite day out here in the country, but when I open up the shop I hear a lawn mower. I step out of the shop I no longer hear it. I step back in, and hear it again. Then I look up in the rafters and see hundreds of wasps buzzing around. This happens every year around this time. I don't know why, but they tend to do this in here right before they die, and one day I walk in and there are a bunch of wasp carcasses on the ground. The problem is that usually in September and October I am spending a lot more time up here. This year I have been too busy putting ice on my crotch and trying not to be nauseous. So where I normally would have had all the doors open and some of them leave, this year they have been corralled in here and apparently they are having a wasp convention. The other big problem is that my immune system is less than 48 hours from bottoming out. I don't know what wasp sting does to people on chemo. I decide not to risk it and head back into the house, scaring the crap out of the abused rescued basenji (guess I should have taken my mask off before I came in the house), but then again, a Kleenex hitting the floor scares the crap out of our rescued basenji.
My wife, being the caring person she is, suggests that I go back up there anyway. I pop on-line to see if I can find anything about people that have been stung while on chemo. I find several stories, most just have more severe reactions, it hurts more, swells more, last longer, that sort of thing. I also found where one chemo patient went into anaphylactic shock. I want everyone reading this to call the police if I happen to die of anaphylactic shock from a wasp sting. Either my wife really does assume I will be OK, or she is tired of me sitting around the house doing nothing but Shake Weighting and this was all part of her evil plan. C'mon we've all seen Alicia Silverstone in "The Crush". OK, hardly anyone saw that movie. And now I just spoiled the part where she tries to kill someone with wasps or bees or angry termites or whatever they were, so if you haven't seen it there is no sense wasting your time on it now.
Back to the couch I go, and that is where I spent the remainder of the day, except to get up and write this, and pee, and drink some more (still two different activities). I don't know how I will feel tomorrow. I seem to be getting more and more fatigued as I get closer to Monday. And now, my scalp is also starting to tingle as well, so I may have to write tomorrow's blog with a hat on if I lose all my hair. I guess I should go to bed early tonight since I have a busy day tomorrow being tired, thirsty, and possibly bald.
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