I started chemotherapy almost two months ago. It has been a lot less pleasant than the first time through it all. Not that the first time was a barrel of laughs, but this one is tough.
I thought I would get hooked-up every other Monday, have a pump hooked into my chest, disconnect that Wednesday and then start running or biking that evening. Of course I did not plan to go crazy that night. Just a little bit on the trainer or treadmill. No two-hour sessions. Maybe just a half-hour. Though I avoid clichés like the plague, in this case it was an example of the best-laid plans of mice and men.
At first I thought it was on track. I was a little bit tired the first Wednesday, so decided to rest. I was still a bit tired the Thursday, so another rest day. I did a 3-1/2 mile run on Friday. All systems go. Rested a couple of more days, then a 4 mile run the next Tuesday. Felt good. The bottom fell out that evening. I became violently ill for about 6 hours. Praying to the porcelain god. Stopped counting at 30 times. It was even less fun than it sounded. It took me by surprise. Usually the reactions are going to be during the first week. Needless to say the next two days were off days. No training.
But by Friday I was okay again. A 7-mile run. Then on Saturday a brick - 13 miles on the bike trainer, followed by a 1 mile run. Took Sunday off. Kind of. If I thought a couple of days before was bad, about 10:30PM all hell broke loose. Another 6 hours of fun and games. 100 times. Yes, in the weird world of going through this all, I did my best to count. The doctors are always asking for specifics. The second chemo treatment the next day was cancelled, instead they gave me an IV top up of about a liter and a half of fluids, an injection for a low white blood count (first time ever) and another injection for nausea. Which made me nauseous. Turns out sometimes people have a reaction to that. Awesome.
Two days later I did a 5-mile run. Stubborn and stupid are two of my better traits. I wound up getting sick one more time a few days later – almost three weeks after my chemo - and had a CT scan to make sure there was no brain tumor. Getting sick that far out after chemo was extreme.
The second treatment triggered the real exhaustion. I was told it would probably start earlier than before. Last time it took about 6 sessions before I had those small 36-48 hour naps. Now it was starting almost right after getting disconnected. But I did not get sick. I felt tired, and popped my anti nausea meds three times a day - partly from being nauseous, partly from fear of going through what I did before - but I did not get sick. I was ahead of the game once again.
The training, however, took a hit. I was able to get in 6 sessions of running and biking after the second treatment. But my times were going south and what I was able to do pretty easily became a daunting task. The chemo was affecting me more than the cancer. It was at the point where my runs slower than what I did during the Ironman 70.3. The run on the Ironman 70.3 was a 1/2 marathon. 13.1 miles. After swimming 1.2 miles. Then biking 56 miles. About 7 weeks earlier. It was pretty disheartening.
The third treatment crashed me out quickly. And I felt beat up and found myself on the couch resting. Was also beating myself up about giving into being tired. Though I knew better, I could not shake the thought that I was just using cancer and chemo as an excuse to be lazy.
Yesterday I was feeling a bit more normal. For the first time. Got up out of the house and walked about 2.5 miles. Today I woke up after about 7 hours of sleep. And felt okay. Which meant I did not feel like a tractor-trailer ran over me repeatedly. Just a tad tired.
I had to take a car in for some things to get fixed, so I got out of bed and drove the car to the repair shop. Instead of getting a ride back, I decided to walk to a diner for breakfast since I felt okay walking yesterday. It was two miles. The first 1/2 mile took a bit to get going, but I made it. And was feeling pretty good. Then another 2 miles back home. Still feeling good. Then I had a crazy thought - instead of trying to get a ride to the garage, I would run there. I was feeling that well.
So when I got the call the car was ready, I put on my running shoes, sweatpants (it was 37 degrees outside, no shorts today for me) and ran 2 miles. The first part of the run was hilly. I knew the section was usually slow for me. And I felt slow. I tried to ignore my Garmin and just wanted to move. But I did glance a couple of times during the first quarter mile or so. The pace was SLOW. Then I just stopped looking. Eventually my watch vibrated and I was a mile in. At a pace faster than I had achieved since I started chemo by about 30 seconds. The second mile was even quicker as the route flattened out. About a minute and a half faster than what I have been doing. Not that I am a fast runner, but getting close to the pace I use for running for endurance training. Not race pace, but decent (for me) training pace for longer distances. Though 2 miles is not that long, I was happy to see that pace.
I think I am adjusting to things. That the work I had put in had not been totally lost. That though I may not be able to train 6 days a week, I may have 5 days during each 14-day cycle to get something in. Each step means I am keeping my cardio up. And my cardio kept me off the chemo as long as possible.
Now it is the time for the chemo to kick in and start knocking things down. A scan in January will let me know how it is going. I am looking forward to seeing the cancer is in retreat. I cannot wait until my next triathlon. Sprint, Olympic, whatever. And then back to a 70.3. Or maybe a 140.6 That is completely a crazy idea. But so was a Sprint Triathlon less than a year ago when I was told the cancer is back and started triathlon training. And so was doing a 70.3, with a tumor in my back and spine, with about 6 months of training. Impossible just takes a bit longer to get to.
@iTri4ACure
