Post 167: So tired I want a new body.
A lazy Sunday again — but this one feels different, as though it’s caused by something else rather than a busy day yesterday.
———
Waking in my recovery suite, with all its lonesome but comfy independence-enhancers, I’m too happy to be bothered stepping out into the cooler autumn world. After a quick trip to the loo to start the day, I’m back in bed with the remote controls and a bad posture in the flexi-bed that’s now my home.
Yes, I’m lazy. I’m a guy with problems — ha-ha. The outlying problems are all but gone, actually, but a few gremlins remain other than the sleepiness.
The bowels are having a Laxido holiday and Senna is its replacement — and that is interesting. Although it seems much the same course of action, it really feels different. My Darling tells me daily it’s a pusher not a softener. I listen but I don’t really get it — still, it’s working, and that’s the best news ever.
Now I seem to be passing like a normal person “within realms” and I’m eating better too. I just feel more me, and I didn’t expect that.
One up for the pills. Hurrah!
The other thing is a wiggly thumb and forefinger in my right hand. This is not your average prostate issue, but it’s cropped up these last weeks and I’m worried the nerve pain and damage to my spine causing all the fuss has escalated the wiggle — perhaps exacerbated by my copious use of this mobile I blog and live my life on. I’ll leave it there and hope it’s just the current tiredness.
I didn’t get up until I heard the subtle clicks and crashes downstairs, beneath me, where my Darling was starting to cook dinner. “A roast,” she said. So I made the bold decision to get out of my pit and join her for the first time today for a hand-hold and evening-TV session.
She’s been recharged by yesterday’s visit, lavishing food on our eldest and his fiancée while they helped us out in the garden. It’s great that being motherly can give her the boost nothing else can. A quick trip to the shops for everything necessary for a blow-out brunch was all she needed to lift those spirits I had cruelly taken from her with all the kerfuffle with my back.
It was a dream to see all the food on the table, the atmosphere and smells, with a crowd of hungry mouths and tummies. Just like Christmas but better in a way, because it was such a lift and not anticipated like the seasonal festivities are.
But that was yesterday. Tonight I came down to a lovely welcome and a tray on my lap — healthy, and a real treat too. With half a punnet of grapes later I was full to the brim and the TV shows had me nodding for my bed way too early.
The chair lift took me back up to the den with my Darling chasing me up every step, smiling all the way as if I were in her way. We said our cuddled goodbyes and her little sleepy eyes headed off to her bed after the usual warnings about getting some sleep and using the hospital bed properly to avoid injury to my back etc., etc.
But my mind wandered back to the tiredness and the slight investigation I’d given earlier to the blood results — especially the red bloods, which were lowish.
So I straightened my self-advocacy hat and got cracking on a message for the oncologist Dr S via nurse Nina, who should be back at work today. My PSA is very important to know too. It’s still in the multi-hundreds and not where anyone would like it, but a downward trend would be nice. I also mentioned the thumb wiggle and the good bits too — let’s not forget I’m a very happy chappie compared with me last week.
On the whole I’m ready for what this week can throw at me, but most of it will be my choices. Perhaps we can get out. See some sights. Go and eat out. Get a breath of real life outside before it gets too cold.
Then I can progress up that hill a bit more and take my Darling’s warm hand and hold it strongly and lovingly while we look forward together in positive reflection.
