"Your white blood cells are high! Why?!" My oncologist asks me, eyes wide over her mask. She has asked me this before, the last time was in June and I had been fighting something then. It's a funny question though, ha! I mean, I'm not the doctor! It's interesting that both my surgeon and oncologist ask my opinion on my body, a good yet disconcerting thing. I am glad to be included in the conversation but I have no idea why my immune system seems to be fighting something other than the obvious. She asked if I had been running before my appointment đł a hilarious question if you know me, I mean I would run to catch a bus or from an attacker but for recreation?! Nope. However I had been running late and was a bit enraged at all the slow pokes on the road...Still...I have been a little more tired the last few days, hopefully it's just a bug. My oncologist also asked if my ooze was less and I told her no. I asked if I was a slow draining tub and she told me no. She believes the fluid is coming from the rectal tumor which is staying a manageable size but not getting any smaller either...It's just hanging out creating this serous fluid and to be honest, I am annoyed as fuck. A woman with a uterus usually bleeds once a month for about a week from around 12 to 50 and here I am at 52 wearing pads 24/7 every day of the week and it's been a couple years. It really takes the fun out of menopause, I am telling you. No matter, this is tiring but I aim for the faucet to be fixed one day, it just really wears on me sometimes. I asked my doctor what I could do to support my body more and she said I was doing a lot, told me I was "type A" đł THAT is so off the mark it's pretty hilarious but I believe from her it was a compliment. I will just have to figure it out, why not keep trying?
My friend who is an amazing Physical Therapist is getting certified in Pilates and she is going to work with me. This is good because my body needs help and she is aware of my issues, also I think she will learn something that might help other clients from working with my whacky body and all of its alterations from various surgeries and treatments. Pilates was invented for people in hospital beds, perfect. Today was our first session and it was challenging. Some of the signals in my body felt faint and far away and (surprise) I cried a little bit but my body needs to wring those tears out, the sorrow, rage and disappointment can get trapped in the crevices and storing them isn't good for me. I hope I can keep this up, I hope I keep getting better. I wish I was at least a little type A đ.
Until next time â¤ď¸