It’s Cycle 3, Day 4, 2am. All week I have been looking at the wonders of my world, at how ideally my body, mind and spirit have been living. Ideal, ideal, ideal, crash!
I realize that the crash is just a bunch of moments that will pass. But there is pain! I am not a fan.
This is what landed me in the hospital. The pain. It is unnerving. It makes all of my compensation skills puzzle. I am not a medication person… and I have the option of hard narcotics. I don’t take them (yet?).
I walk. I do yard work (not at 2am). I play games with my mind, asking it to notice what is this pain. Is it heat? Is it a message? Who is speaking, colon, liver, kidney? What should I do differently (perhaps the Bailey’s Mousse was an over the top choice at Woodfire Grill. Maybe the alcohol was not cooked out. No alcohol.) Distraction.
Distraction. When I type, the mind focuses here. I can split my focus and feel deep, nagging, throbbing sensations in my colon. Or I can stay up in the head and down in the fingertips, and not feel it at all. Pain is weird.
Yes, I took Tylenol. Yes, all of the normal drugs and supplements are on board for today too. I am drinking lots of water, even now, to help clear the chemotherapy, and whatever else I have mucked up with my choices. And the pain will teach me. And it will move on.
micheleplumbstowell.org 