Showing posts with label exercise during chemotherapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exercise during chemotherapy. Show all posts

Sunday, November 10, 2013

In the swim

I went swimming today for the first time since January, when I swam at dawn at Shark Bay in Nielsen Park, on Sydney Harbour. It was magic, but I was already so sick that when I swam I was pretty much done for the day.

Today was different. I swam at my local pool, the Annette Kellerman Acquatic centre in Marrickville. It's not as picturesque as Nielsen Park, but it's close and, with its gym and personal trainer, it has all the facilities I need to get my strength back.


I've been going to the gym for the past month or two when I was in the 'off chemo' part of the cycles, but I didn't dare to go into the pool for fear of infection from all the kiddies and who knows what else. Now that I am feeling better and believe that I am at the end of my chemo treatment (keeping fingers crossed), I thought I'd give it a go. I used to be a very strong swimmer and used to swim daily before work when my son was small, so beginning this week I am revisiting the old routine and plan to get up early to be at the Aquatic Centre by 6am. The plan is to go six days a week, alternating between the gym and the pool. In the old days I used to feel energised for the rest of the day. I want to get back to that feeling.  Right now, I feel energised, but also tired, so we shall see.

Getting off the chemo is always a tricky business. When I am on chemo I know that at certain times of the day I will be knocked off my feet and need to plan my activities around that. During the 'off period' however,  I immediately feel liberated, but my energy level and brain capacity is actually low for a couple of days and it's very tempting to do too much. It's difficult to find a balance between doing too little or too much.

One of the most frustrating thing in getting back to the gym is the peritoneal port I have had implanted in my abdomen for draining the ascites. Normally, I don't feel it and often forget it's in there, and remember only when I have my shower and feel the hard bump where it's located. Getting back to the gym, however, I quickly realised that there are certain exercises I can't do until my muscle tone returns, because the port seems to be causing pain and discomfort. Talk about difficulties in finding a balance. When I asked the Professor what types of exercises to avoid, he looked at me like I was an idiot and said firmly: EXPERIMENT! So, I am experimenting even in the pool which strokes would irritate the thing and which not. As my ascites is so much better, I was hoping to get rid of the thing, but I was told it will stay in as long as needed and was reassured that it can stay in safely for 20 years! May I live so long!

Anyway, the ugly truth is that it may need to stay in as long.  As of the last blood test I still don't know whether I will go into remission or if the chemo will just hold the cancer in check. I will have to have that chat with the professor at our next meeting in two weeks.

In the meantime, I am getting into the last stage of writing an essay for a competition, so I am doing everything I can to stay strong and focused. Going to the gym and keeping up my body and brain exercises is geared to that end.  Aside from the considerable first prize purse, I need the to know that I can still complete complex writing assignments as I need to reinvent myself (yet again) to be able to make a living. I have many alternative plans, but for now the priority is to maintain health and finish the essay.

I've been working on a longer blog entry about chemo side effects and how to deal with them. I called it The Gross Report, but I found that I really don't want to revisit that now as I move into this last stage of writing.  I need to look forward, not backward.  Nevertheless, I will finish it sometime so, if you have any difficult side effects you learned to manage positively, please let me know so I can include it.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Finally! A full chemo cycle.

This morning I woke up fresh, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Full of energy, I put on some African music and danced my heart out. This was around 9am, just before I was to take my cyclophosphamide pills which, I knew, would change everything.

After four weeks of ups and downs, on Tuesday I was finally able to start a full 3 week CMF chemo cycle. This consists of an intravenous 'bolus' of methotrexate and 5FU first week, intravenous 'bolus' of 5FU the second week and 14 days of 100mg cyclphosphamide in pill form. The third week is a period of rest free from medication. The week after that, it's all repeated. I am told I will have a total of four cycles, and this is my third, so I expect to be finished sometime mid-August.

In the meantime...

I have to cope with...

Soon after I took the chemo pills at 9:45am, my mood changed completely. My lips started tingling, my stomach constricting. My mind was getting foggy and tears poured down my face. Not a happy chappy.  I took notes, because I knew the mood would lift and I would forget the details. So, here it is:

' Just a half hour ago I wrote a note to ... (a friend) to say that I'll live a long time. Now, I have no thought of the 'after'. Just want to cope with the present and get it over with. Half hour ago I was full of hope. Now, I just am. There's no past or future, just the now, and the strange sensations coursing through my body and the coldness of my tears. I can explain it all as a physical reaction to the medication, but emotionally all I can do is scream: THIS IS A NIGHTMARE.'

This is the point where my 'coping mechanism' kicks in and I look for things to do to distract myself from my distress. I think I mentioned somewhere in this blog that I moved house in February, when I was really ill. It's just  a very small, one bedroom garden apartment, where I plan to eventually have a vegetable garden, but I am still unpacking and slowly making the place habitable – with lots of help from amazing friends. So, I've taken to sorting out small things that make life more pleasant. Yesterday I sorted out my CDs and thereby liberated two large stackable drawers that will now be used to help organise my bedroom closet. Today I plan to start copying the CDs to an external hard drive.

'OK, so the tears are gone, but now, instead of the 'lightness of being' and energy, I feel like my body is imploding, like someone is sitting on my chest, my bum glued to the sofa. It's difficult to even make the decision to move. My vision is blurring slightly. I am putting drops in my eyes to stop them burning. My throat is starting to get sore. One bright thought – these symptoms will disappear by evening, only to start again tomorrow after I take the next cyclophosphamide dose.'

It's 11:30am as I write this blog and I am starting to feel better. The sun is shining outside in my garden and I am expecting a friend to visit, so we can go for a walk. It's very important to keep walking and exercising during this period. I am not always able to do it.  The fatigue I mentioned above comes and goes during the day. I never know when it will hit. Yesterday, I walked to my local cafe with friends (two blocks). When we were ready to leave I could hardly walk and they had to bring the car to take me home. And so it goes...