After sleeping 11.5 hours Saturday night with the aid of Lorazepam, I slept 8.5 hours last night, without chemical assistance. That much sleep means my body is really wrecked. I did feel fairly normal yesterday, for that current value of normal which includes “absolutely wrung out from chemotherapy”, but no longer in the deep exhaustion mode of Saturday. The fatigue just layers deeper and deeper.
I’m still hoping this was all bad feedback from the cold of two weeks ago and subsequent no-reserves chemo, plus the stress of Mother of the Child being in the hospital for six days. She did come home yesterday evening, thanks to the good offices of my parents in providing transportation and logistics.
This last week was the first time the physical stresses managed to completely derail my writing. I’ll be back on track this week, at least through Thursday, before chemo robs me of my writing again in its usual fashion on Friday. A bit different schedule this week, as I am having my bloodwork done a day in advance, so if they need to wave me off, they can do so before I blow a workday. Between myself,
Meanwhile, the week awaits.