nighttime patterns

One of the side effects of the chemo is a bounce-back, hey-I'm-wide-awake reaction from one of the drugs. It seems to hit me around 2:30 or 3 am. So here I am, my brain telling me, "It's time for coffee! Get up! Where is everyone? Aren't they hungry too?" And of course there's no one here but me, nor should there be.

But that's okay, because a lot of things have changed just in the past two days alone. It's almost astonishing charting the progress. As of yesterday afternoon, I can now move around on my own without a walker. Still no sensation, but at least I can move. That just suddenly happened. I thought, "You know? I think I can do this." And then I did--I stood up and I took a few steps. Not many, but a few. Now I'm trusting it more and I think I have even a little more strength, but I still have to be very careful--my balance is not so good and I have to be careful to always hold on to something. But I can walk, and I don't fall down too much. The alarming bruises on my legs are clearing. The cuts on my legs from the day I decided, "Dammit, I'm going to shave" before I had a whole lot of my movement or sensation back are gone. In retrospect this was a very bad decision. But you just want to feel normal, you know? And not like you're revulsing everyone around you. I feel less like that now, although I'm still wandering around reeking of coffee from the day I dropped my morning cuppa all over my favorite bathrobe.

So the big news here is that everyone is trying to keep me from getting swine flu while I'm in the middle of the radiation and the chemo. I have to admit I'm a bit terrified of the possibility. The stuff looks nasty. So I'm on a bit of a quarantine, with most people staying away as much as possible and wearing masks when they come near if there's any sign of a cold.

Still, it's not too bad, this forced retreat. How many times are we not just allowed but compelled to step back and do things all differently from before? I keep saying--I'm not convinced it's such a bad thing.