Post 68: A quiet Fathers Day
No AFib all day today. That’s a good sign — and I slept like a log for once. Things are looking up.
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I was up early again and fed Mr Vicious as I was the first one awake. That’s a rarity, but he seemed pleased to see me. I ended up going back to bed, though — still tired from last night’s palpitations.
AFib, even when it’s at its lightest, is deceptive. I lived with it for five years as a mild nuisance, but now it feels like an ambush. An hour of it feels like running uphill the whole time. Can’t catch my breath, and my chest feels like it’s been boxed. Afterwards, I’m shattered.
These past few weeks have been rough. I’m really hoping these new pills will give me a breather — literally and figuratively.
What’s bothering me now is the looming meeting on Thursday with Dr A, my oncologist. If she asks how the heart’s been, do I tell her about Friday and Saturday? Would she consider those episodes enough to worry about? Or is it only a problem if I end up in A&E? I suppose I’ll just have to ask — but it’s frustrating to have this side issue constantly threatening the main mission.
I keep wondering: if I could just give the AFib time to calm down naturally, might it sort itself out? But there is no time. If I get back to chemo, will it flare up again and spook the medics into hitting pause once more?
I’m trying to stay positive and go with the flow, but my patience is wearing thin.
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This afternoon began with overnight chia pudding topped with fruit — a fab start to the day (even if that “day” started after my mid morning nap). My Darling outdid herself, again. After a proper roast lunch, we decided to go for our daily walk after the meal for a change, giving me a chance to snuggle up and chill out. The massive TV was playing some thrilling tale set in the Black Forest. Subtitled, hypnotic — I drifted off, just like the cat.
Mr Vicious was curled behind our heads again on the big blue sofa, so quiet it had us both suspicious.
I said, “He’s usually crying for food by now.” “I fed him early this morning. He’s normally howling by now.”
Cue My Darling’s revelation:
“You fed him this morning? I did too! I just assumed we’d left the conservatory doors open last night. Oops.”
So the cat had a double breakfast and decided to lounge in satisfied silence all day. See photo: one smug feline.
Our walk was just over two miles, and I kept up a decent pace to test my strength — more like the old me; for now. We needed the walk after that feast, and the fresh air was perfect. The trees wore their full summer coats, and the rain from the day before had cooled the air beautifully. Later this week it’s going to heat up, just in time for the visitors from Australia to enjoy some true summer weather. My Darling, of course, will hate it — she much prefers the wind and rain. It takes all sorts…
A quiet Sunday, then — just what I needed.
It’s Father’s Day, and though I only saw my eldest via video call, the youngest is joining us for a belated catch-up dinner at a pub local to him tomorrow, so I’ll take that as a win.
The night sweats are still unpleasant, and the worry about pills and palpitations continues. I need to chase the pharmacy tomorrow and attend the scheduled counselling session too. But for now, five days to go — and I’m still on schedule.
My Darling worries too much (as always), but this weekend felt lighter. I’ve been a good boy. Long may that continue.
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Here’s to quiet days, lighter hearts, and just enough energy to enjoy both.
