chemo doldrums, i hate to say it

i have found myself here thirteen times since february 12. every three weeks, with one week's respite back in august. wednesday evening is when the real doldrums set in. i am sitting on the couch, flipping through channels, wondering whether i really want to eat dinner, wondering how late i'll last on the couch. i'm willing to bet i'll miss the end of the phillies game tonight. i'll be sound asleep, despite having already taken a two-hour nap this afternoon and sleeping in a bit this morning. the wind really does go out of my sails and i won't see it again until late friday afternoon. there's nothing much to do but find a warm spot and settle in. it is much better than it was when i was on really toxic drugs, ones that would keep me down days longer than these ones.

but it is a strange existence. i've likened it to the following scenario: imagine going to bed, but not being able to fall asleep. finally your eyes get heavy enough, and you sleep like a champ. you have great dreams. you nestle deeper under the covers. it feels great. suddenly, the alarm is going off, again. time to get up and start all over. that is how it is, every three weeks. the chemo days are the hours without sleep, the next two weeks or so are the great days when i feel strong and have fun, and then, suddenly, it is time to get back up and have more chemo. repeat. repeat. repeat.

last night i went to yoga, and it made me feel fantastic. i haven't been in a long time, and i am planning on making a new habit of it once again. the toughest part is driving home after being so relaxed.

tonight i am sipping on some pineapple juice and now it is time for some soup. then we'll see if i can make it to the re-opening pitch.