Today was like the past few. I woke up having to pee, having to drink, and just as tired as when I went to bed. I am doing a little better today though. I only had to take one nap. Although the cabin fever is driving me crazy, I can't seem to find the energy to do much anyway. The best solution I can come up with is that someone tie me up like a marionette and move my arms and legs for me. If that happens, there are all kinds of places to go and things I would like to do.
But there was one thing I had to do. Supposedly the temperature is going to flirt with the freezing mark tomorrow. I have been putting off winterizing one of the boats and still didn't want to do it today, but I have put to much work into it to have it ruined now. This boat isn't huge by most standards, but on its trailer, it comes up to my chest. This is a little bit of a problem for a guy that is still recovering from having his abdomen sliced open. On one hand it seems like my surgery was a lifetime ago (and I guess in a sense it was), but I still feel the tug on that side when I make certain movements, and I actually won't get the all clear for my surgery for another two weeks. I gather my tools and antifreeze and very carefully manage to climb into my boat, trying to only put the strain on the unsliced portion of my body, while keeping my sliced up part straight and slowly angling it up and over the side of the boat. I finally manage to get in, with just a slight pull on my incision, I slide the boat cover off to give me plenty of room to work, and I get ready to settle down next to the engine when I see...all of my tools still sitting on the table. I now have to get back out of the boat, which is actually more difficult, and I use the fat-kid-getting-out-of-the-swimming-pool approach. I get on my stomach, spin to swing my legs over, I have to stop and think which leg has to go first, because at one point all of my weight will be put on one leg, and if I put it on the wrong leg, I will end up putting all of my weight on my butt on the concrete. I shimmy down in a move that would have made James Brown proud (and I think at one point during the maneuver I actually did end up jumping back and kissing myself...at least I hope that was myself). I gather everything and place it on the back of the boat and start to board again looking like a drunk gymnast on the uneven bars. The good news is, the actual winterizing went surprisingly easy. I closed the boat back up, put my tools away, and start to get a little down.
See, this boat has been a three year project. I was one mechanical piece away from having it on the water. Life being what it is, all summer I struggled to find time to finish the last little bit. When I was laid off, my immediate thought was to finish it up while on severance and waiting for a job and this project would be finally be done. Then I got cancer. It is times like these that make you really hate the disease. I have said before I feel like cancer took two months of my summer, and it took this too. The part that really bothers me is work inside the boat has to be done at certain temperatures. If it is too cold, you can crack the fiberglass just by getting into it while it's on the trailer. As I am shutting my shop back up, I got mad, I got depressed, I got sweaty, and I got tired again. Now I am even more mad. I can't even get mad without getting winded!
After a two or three hour nap, my parents call. During the conversation, they mention they are looking for another vehicle. I get mad at cancer again. I had planned on getting one of my spare vehicles rebuilt for them after the boat. The reality of the situation is, that if I had finished the boat, I probably would have spent too much time on it the rest of the summer to finish that vehicle for them, but that isn't the point. The point is because of cancer I will never know. For the past two months, cancer has controlled what I can do, where I can go, what I can eat and drink, when I sleep, when I stay awake, just about every aspect of my life and I am getting really (curse word) tired of it!!! Even when I get furious about it and want to do something, all I can summon the energy to do is nap.
Tomorrow, I go to my cancer group. It can be a depressing setting sometimes, but I still walk out of there feeling better. It really is what it advertises to be, just a place where you and your cancer colleagues can talk about how you are feeling and how to deal with it. My only apprehension about going tomorrow, is I have some errands I would like to run as well. I am afraid to do my errands, because at the rate I have been going I will be exhausted by group. Again, cancer is acting like a helicopter parent. You aren't going to the music store and the bike shop before group are you? You may get tired. And you better take a jacket, it is supposed to be a little chilly tomorrow and you know how you get when you are fighting cancer...
The only bright spot of today is that I am still tired, because I did limit myself to one nap. I have been fretting over getting the boat winterized, so at least that is one thing I don't have to worry about now. So maybe, with a little less on my mind and still being tired, I will go to sleep before 3am. And tomorrow I will get to talk to the people at the cancer clubhouse. If I can run two or three errands on the way, it will be a good day.
No comments:
Post a Comment