Chemotherapy Cycle 1, Day 8.
Temperature: 36.6 deg C.
By mouth:
- Benadryl (to help me sleep)
- Tim Tams (mood elevation)
The first week of treatment for cancer is over. Today marks the midpoint between the two chemo treatments in the first cycle. It’s also supposed to be my low immune point of the two week period. I’m staying in and keeping to myself (other than seeing Cass and Otis). I feel well and my mind is clear though fatigue lingers at the edge of my awareness.
In 46 years I’ve learned a thing or two about myself. One of my best attributes is that I can put up with almost anything cheerfully as long as there is a known time that the torment will stop. It’s only when there is no known finish point that endurance becomes bitter. Cancer treatment is the latter. It will end when I am in remission or when I am dead. I don’t even know which outcome will occur, let alone when. So, I only focus on the next known milestone: the next treatment, the next cycle, the next scan or test. At the moment there is only the present tense. One week down… eternity to go.
I mentioned that we were going to launch the boat last Saturday. That didn’t happen. There was a problem with the prop. For some reason the markings on the feathering prop didn’t make any sense to our mechanic or to the manufacturer (PYI) when the mechanic consulted them. They could have mounted the prop with the original settings and it would have worked, but it would have been at the same old pitch as it was before and nothing would have been gained. So the boat’s still high and dry at Canoe Cove. The prop is at the OEM’s shop in Seattle. The mechanic is changing our cutlass bearing while we have the opportunity. We are still waiting to hear what PYI thinks is up with our prop. <sigh>. I love our boat except when it’s breaking my heart… which seems to be far too often.
“A lot of people ask me if I were shipwrecked, and could only have one book, what would it be? I always say ‘How to Build a Boat’.” Stephen Wright
“Only the guy who isn’t rowing has time to rock the boat.” Jean-Paul Sartre
“Noah was a brave man to sail in a wooden boat with two termites.” Anon
“We are the boat, we are the sea, I sail in you, you sail in me” Lorre Wyatt
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