My Poor Body

The treatment is often worse than the ailment. Do you know what it feels like to run a race and give it all you've got, and when you get to the last stretch and you have nothing else to give you just try and make sure your legs are moving even if you can't feel them? Well that's how I feel. That finish line is just ahead but I can't get there fast enough.

The bloodwork that I had done on Monday indicated a couple of new things beside the low blood counts. My TSH, or measure of my thyroid, is 0.04 and should be at least .5 or so. That means that even though I don't have a thyroid, my medicine is making my body think I have an overactive thyroid. Not a problem, I just need an adjustment on my medication. But that does explain the extreme sleepiness and dragging I've been having.

Also, my iron studies are low. So low, in fact, that I had to go to the hospital today and sit around for a couple of hours getting an infusion of the tar-looking substance. I'll have chemo tomorrow at the Cancer Institute and then go to the hospital the next day for more iron. That should help the bruising and other symptoms. I *think* that's it for infusions. I'll just have to make it through the next couple of weeks and try to get healthy.

For some reason I've been finding myself thinking of myself as two parts in the whole: my soul/mind/aura/whatever and my physical body. It's almost as if I am two different people. I used to not have this division. I am a true believer in the mind-body connection. I guess I feel a little betrayed by my body. I feel like I've treated it pretty darn well, and what do I get in return? Cancer. And now, during chemo, my body is not listening to my mind again. I'm trying to heal and understand what my body is whispering, but it's almost like it's speaking a different language all of a sudden.