I've had a few (I may even upgrade that to "several") friends and family members call/text/email/facebook me lately to ask how I'm doing... really.
Here's the scoop:
Honestly, I'm doing quite well.
I tire easily, but I think that's normal for being just shy of six weeks post-op. I get a little dizzy if I read for too long. I have to eat on a regular schedule so I don't get nauseated, and I take two Tylenol every six hours.
That might sound a little lame to those of you who climb mountains and/or eschew even over-the-counter drugs, but for me... I'm doing quite well.
True story. Just short of three weeks post-op (still on narcotics for surgical pain, mind you), I already felt better than I had in a year. Those darn hernias were bumming me out. In a major way.
I still can't walk a mile straight on the treadmill, but I can walk for almost a mile without feeling like my guts are going to fall right out of my body, even for a second. And that, my dears, if fabulous. (Pre-surgery, I couldn't walk around the block without searing pain. So, when I say that .87 miles on a treadmill is a victory, I'm not kidding.)
I can cough without having to push in/on my bellybutton, and sneezing no longer makes me feel like I was stabbed in the stomach and am going to bleed out in a matter of minutes. (Winning!)
Do I know that I still have cancer cells that are alive and well inside my body, and that there's a decent chance I'll lose my hair to chemo before Thanksgiving? Yeah, I do.
But ya know what else I know? ... That I won't know what those cells are doing, how fast they're growing, until October. So, there's no point in spending energy on all of the "what ifs" and "whens" of everything until I have the information and can see the plan in real time.
I figure, all I can do right now is... live. With what information and energy and drive and will that I have - right now - I am living my life. And I'll deal with whatever comes my way when it comes.
Really, I am.