Proprioceptive Overload

I pride myself in possessing considerable knowledge about my body. While my chosen career may deliver surprising pinches and pains from time to time, I can generally assess the random or chronic issues at hand. However, my recent health diagnosis and subsequent treatment have erased any sense of how everything works. Muscles aches that no golf ball can remedy. An appetite so excessive even Matt has raised an eyebrow. A couch that beckons for far more often than I'd care to sit still. A quickly spreading scalp and forehead. And that bi-monthly adventure my doctor calls chemotherapy has proven that I have zero clue how to treat my body. Luckily I have ten more shots at taming this beast.

I realize that this posting has a more negative, cynical tone. I am extremely positive about my prognosis, relieved to finally know what's wrong and overjoyed to have an enormous support system. But this experience is not without its frustrations. I want to share those realities too.

On a great note, blood tests last Monday confirmed that my hemoglobin (the protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen from the lungs to the rest of the body) has nearly doubled since I was in the hospital three weeks ago. This means I have much more energy and a skin tone that resembles that of a human again. Despite the knock down, drag out brawl my body faced against chemo this weekend I feel better than I have in quite awhile.