Down for the Count (A.K.A. Raise the White Flag)
As Cinderella Man blared downstairs last night and I tried to go to sleep in my strangely single bed, I wondered about the match going on inside my body right now. Or maybe it is more like an invading army of isotopes, searching out the last thyroid holdouts. They must have found a group of ragtag cells in my throat, in that area where my thyroid used to be because it feels sore and swollen. Thyroid cells tend to migrate elsewhere, so I imagine a few here and there in various and sundry lymph nodes as well. I was forewarned that the side effects would be more pronounced after the onset of the treatment, and they were at least right about that.
After 10 hours of sleep, I thought I ought to get up, but I feel as tired as when I went to bed. I would so like to be able to crawl inside my body and find out how the battle is going – sort of like a Red Cross observer. I hope it is almost over, that those last cells will soon surrender, that the invading army will take its prisoners and go home, that there will be no collateral damage to the good guys like my salivary glands, that I will just feel energetic and totally normal once again. Some of the scariness and the unknown continues as I get these daily reminders that something very unusual indeed happened to my body and it’s not over yet.
After 10 hours of sleep, I thought I ought to get up, but I feel as tired as when I went to bed. I would so like to be able to crawl inside my body and find out how the battle is going – sort of like a Red Cross observer. I hope it is almost over, that those last cells will soon surrender, that the invading army will take its prisoners and go home, that there will be no collateral damage to the good guys like my salivary glands, that I will just feel energetic and totally normal once again. Some of the scariness and the unknown continues as I get these daily reminders that something very unusual indeed happened to my body and it’s not over yet.
posted by Barbara at 7:23 AM
4 Comments:
I loved the analogy to a Red Cross observer. Even at 4 am you've got it!
Each day can only get better. I know that sounds patronizing but it is not meant to be. I was fighting the fight with you all night as the wind tore through the area (and continues to do so). Up and down, up and down.....moving balcony furniture in because I thought it was banging around keeping me awake. This morning I discovered a trim piece on the building had broken loose and was banging against the railing. I have secured it but I am fully awake and annoyed that I did not pick up milk last night for my morning coffee. How trivial these things seem in light of what you are going through.
The sun is bright, the sky is clear and so may your body be soon!
Kate
(To think that a month ago I did not even know you existed and today I am charmed and thrilled as I get to know you.)
Kate -- Just so you know that I am really not a hopeless insomniac, I never bother to change the time when I post and since it is west coast time where the Blogger server obviously resides, it always makes it look like I am up in the middle of the night, when in fact it was actually 7 AM. Thanks for your loving support. I know that we are going to be friends for a long time to come. Thanks to Reya for introducing us!
On vacation, in the mountains of Utah and thinking of you fighting the good fight. Sounds like your spirits are holding up. That's great!
Your story is fascinating and your strength admirable. Thanks for sharing.
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