Wheels, Sweat, and a Start Date

This has been an eventful week! I'm driving again (yay!), and the very first place I drove was down to the fitness center to start doing some cardio.  It feels soooo good to be active again! Honestly, I could feel the difference from one day to the next, as strength and energy flowed back in with the exercise. And all I'm doing is some very gentle aerobic exercise on the NuStep machine, using my legs only, no upper body exertion at all (hands folded demurely over my belly). But I'm determined to go every day, five days a week, beginning with half an hour a day and working very gradually up to 40 minutes.

At the wheel.  I find I don't need my special cushioning pillow when I'm driving,

but do when I'm a passenger, to cushion the spot where my port is.

Why such determination? That relates to the second major development of the week, my Wednesday appointment with the oncologist, who said he wanted to start my chemo the week of October 9, two weeks earlier than the surgeon had suggested.  Another yay!--the sooner it starts, the sooner it will be over. I hastily made an appointment with the surgeon for this morning (Friday) to get her blessing on the revised schedule.  When I asked the oncologist what I could do to ward off or minimize side effects from the chemo, he said, "EXERCISE--30-40 minutes of vigorous aerobic exercise 4-6 days a week."

The NuStep machine. Kind to my arthritic right hip,

but still quite capable of making me break a sweat.

So that's my priority for the next three months: the chemo treatments, and exercising five days a week.  Anything else--library board business, book groups, social engagements, whatever--is gravy.

This morning the surgeon gave her blessing to this plan and remarked that I had bounced back extremely well from everything done so far.  And also this morning the cancer center called with a schedule of chemo appointments through October.

So. Bright and early (8 am) on Monday October 9 I will have my first chemo infusion.

The surgeon also gave me some guidelines for starting to work back into upper body exercise, but I might just wait until how I do with the chemo before trying that.  Or maybe I'll give it a try next week, my last week before the chemo. 

Last but not least, as of today I no longer have to wear the Iron Maiden style compression garment they sent me home in from the hospital, which I have been living in 24/7.  Well, actually they sent me home with two, one to wash and one to wear. But the surgeon said that from now on I can wear whatever I'm comfortable in, and best of all I can sleep unfettered. So life is good.

That may sound odd, coming from someone in the middle of treatment for breast cancer, but life is good.  Both my surgeon and my oncologist are kind, approachable, straight-talking, and patient.  I have wonderful support from Michael and from friends. My body seems to be rising to the challenge vigorously and well.  I have so so much to be grateful for.

I've set up a countdown calendar on the front of the fridge to keep track of my progress through chemo. And now I have another week to continue to exercise, eat well, and sleep well, so I can head into it in full vigor--a week that will be capped with a quick visit from son Peter, in town on business.  So much to be grateful for!

Count 12 Mondays starting with October 9 and you will see

that my last chemo treatment will fall on Christmas Day.

Hmmm.