May 6th was the first day that I was strong enough to walk outside after round four. May 8th was the first time I had been strong enough to walk a mile since December 23rd. (It may have been a 40 minute mile, but whatever. It was still a freaking mile!)
Every day since May 8th, I've been able to walk a mile. Some days, two. And a few days, two and a half... almost three. (These were the days that it was nice enough in the afternoon/evening for me to go on a walk. And/or the days that I was so pissed off that I needed to walk more, regardless of the weather or the fact that the skin on my toes was breaking, so I could burn off some frustration/anger at The Tumor That Will Not Die.)
That's 34 straight days of walking, kids, and 32 days of walking at least a mile.
I know that a mile isn't really all that far, but I'm here to tell you... in this body, esp after chemo, every day that I feel well enough, strong enough, to leave my little house and go for a walk around the block is a win.
I may be slow, but it doesn't matter. I can walk. Outside. And that has been such a gift.
And a few of my favorite trees are, miraculously, still in bloom. (I took this pic this morning.)
I haven't been able to wander far from home, because I often have to turn around and come back (my heart starts beating too fast, a serious hot flash hits me and I can't catch my breath, or my joints - any joint, anywhere on the way from hips down to my toes, literally... my toes - will seize), but these wiry, wispy, yellow-flowered trees on my street have been making my day. For 34 days straight.
I'm pretty sure that Texas will change things, that it will be too wet/humid to walk outside while I'm there, and most likely too hot to keep walking outside here once I get back, but for now... I can walk. Outside. Every day.
And for that, I am grateful.