I open my eyes after a solid night's sleep complete with fewer than normal bathroom trips. I went to bed early and didn't get up when my brain first engaged. I should be well rested and raring to go. Instead, my body does not want to move. This is not the reticent "I just wanna sleep in" kind of tired. This is the "there's no way I am going to be able to coax any movement from my muscles" kind of exhaustion. I have this from time to time, but usually somewhat closer to a chemo.
I cast about to try and think if there is anything that might be causing this particular bout. My theory is that my poor liver has been storing all the toxic chemicals during these past years of treatment, and once in awhile, the bin is full and it spills over and dumps stuff into my system. Either that or the liver senses it is now safe to slowly release some of this garbage without damaging my interior further.
Whatever the cause, there is no help for it. I have meetings today and I force my weary bones to move, to trudge through dressing and walking the dog and preparing breakfast and lunch. Ah, yes. It does occur to me that with the car sharing I have been forced to stay at work all day and not go home for lunch where I can relax. Perhaps that plays a role.
And tonight is a girls' night out. I refuse to think that far ahead. I am just too tired. I can barely muster enough uumpf to blink and swallow. I know I do not have a physically demanding job and can spend part if not most of the day just sitting at a computer, but the mental exercise does drain your strength some. Fortunately, my brain does not seem to be affected. Just the body. I move slowly, but I move. My muscles respond with that burn you feel after you have run a thousand miles and the oxygen recovery isn't happening.
After a satisfying dinner with friends at Brook House, I go home and climb in bed. I sure hope this passes. I have a move coming up. Ah, well. It is what it is.
I cast about to try and think if there is anything that might be causing this particular bout. My theory is that my poor liver has been storing all the toxic chemicals during these past years of treatment, and once in awhile, the bin is full and it spills over and dumps stuff into my system. Either that or the liver senses it is now safe to slowly release some of this garbage without damaging my interior further.
Whatever the cause, there is no help for it. I have meetings today and I force my weary bones to move, to trudge through dressing and walking the dog and preparing breakfast and lunch. Ah, yes. It does occur to me that with the car sharing I have been forced to stay at work all day and not go home for lunch where I can relax. Perhaps that plays a role.
And tonight is a girls' night out. I refuse to think that far ahead. I am just too tired. I can barely muster enough uumpf to blink and swallow. I know I do not have a physically demanding job and can spend part if not most of the day just sitting at a computer, but the mental exercise does drain your strength some. Fortunately, my brain does not seem to be affected. Just the body. I move slowly, but I move. My muscles respond with that burn you feel after you have run a thousand miles and the oxygen recovery isn't happening.
After a satisfying dinner with friends at Brook House, I go home and climb in bed. I sure hope this passes. I have a move coming up. Ah, well. It is what it is.
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