Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Insomnia Has A Name, And Thy Name Is Daisy

For one of the first times since all of this cancer stuff happened, I think I had a decent night's sleep last night.  I still woke up at 6:30 am and couldn't fall back asleep, but I don't remember waking up in the middle of the night and that is a big improvement.

Of course, I know part of my insomnia is caused by worrying that I have cancer.  Who would've thought that?  But I think I am narrowing down a physical cause as well.  For those unfamiliar with basenjis, they love sleeping on the bed, and they love to be touching people while they sleep.  This is where my problem seems to lie, on the bed.  I have been referring to our newest basenji (the abused/neglected rescue one) as the "Immovable Object" because once she curls up, it's hard to get that lump of a dog to go anywhere else.  What I am finding out is the Immovable Object does tend to drift at times.  As she gets more accustomed to us, she seems to drift from the foot of the bed, to the head, I think because we have a ritual of a good ear scratching before we get up every morning.  (I scratch her ears, not the other way around.  And not us scratching our own ears, we could do that anytime.)  My hypothesis is that she works her way up during the night anticipating the massage that will come later.  No matter what the cause, she is moving.  So now, when I go to bed I feel like an early California settler.  I have to stake my claim to my property to try to prevent my four legged claim jumper from stealing my mining rights to that section of mattress.  If I should happen to get up in the middle of the night, or roll over and give her an inch or two of space, I can consider that part of the bed gone for eternity.  You have better luck cutting to the front of the line for the Jungle Cruise at Walt Disney World than you do of gaining any ground on Daisy the basenji!  And anyone that has stood in that line for the Jungle Cruise and the M.C. Escher way the queue wanders around, knows exactly what I am talking about.  It dawned on me last night that this may be what is going on when I rolled over and found that I had to perform a contortionist's move from Cirque Du Soleil:  La Chienne Stupide to pull my legs out and around what now seems to be a concrete lawn statue of a sleeping dog.  Not an easy feat when you are barely a month recovered from having your midsection hacked up by the Testicle Fairy (if you leave teeth under your pillow, where was I supposed to leave that?).  So although I have seemed to keep my chemo meds in check enough to get to sleep, I have no remedy for immovable but drifting concrete basenjis.

One thing that has seemed to be working is avoiding naps during the day and maybe even a little workout as well.  I am trying to perform this dance on chemo where I wear myself out enough to sleep solidly for a few hours, but not letting myself get run down, which is pretty much a feeling you have all the time on chemo.  As I mentioned yesterday, I played Wii for a little while.  Not Wii like kids play, Wii like old people play.  You know, bowling, badminton, ski jump, anything that involves standing in one place, slightly moving, and still calling it "exercise".  Whatever you want to call it, it left me winded after a while.  Today I hopped on our elliptical machine.  A machine I ridiculed when I was younger and thinner.  I would say that only a fat lazy person would use an elliptical machine over a treadmill or stepmill, and as a fat lazy person that was sweating profusely on an elliptical machine today, I realize I was right.  I had high hopes.  In better times, I hop on there hit one of the half hour programs, pump up the resistance, and burn a thousand calories.  Today, I hopped on there, hit the three hundred calorie program, started hurting after fifty calories, crying after seventy five, and called it quits at one hundred.  Baby steps.  Well, funny loopy shaped baby steps.  

Whether from wimpy workouts, nausea induced dieting, or just being one heavy nut lighter, the scale did say I lost twelve pounds today!  However, that scale usually doesn't talk to the doctor's scale and tell it how much I have lost, because they have vastly different numbers at times.  Maybe at the doctor's office I should strip naked and get on the scale right after I pee since that is what has been working at home.  That might frighten other people in the waiting room though.  Especially if they aren't aware that I am there for testicular cancer, because they may just see the fresh scar and that one of the boys has gone A.W.O.L. and run out of the office to find a different, non-testicle removing doctor.  At any rate, between the weight change, sleep, exercise, and everything else, I seem to be holding my own against chemo.  It has me a little worried about what I may face as my blood cells continue to drop, but right now I am just focusing on getting better and so far that seems to be working.

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