I was going to say that one of the most frustrating things
about being on chemotherapy long-term is the chemo brain. But then I got to
thinking- - at my age, it’s really better to be able to blame
memory lapses and such on chemo brain than it is to have people shake their
heads sadly and say, “Poor thing, she’s really getting old and forgetful, isn’t
she?”
But actually, I’ve had strange things going on in my brain
for years- just ask Mr. G or the kids. When I was a child, I could look at a picture of a
giraffe and call it a kangaroo. And
vice versa. The same thing with a hippopotamus and a rhinoceros and a sequoia
tree and a sycamore. In adulthood this took the form of mixing up the kids' names.
Often, when I went to call one of the five, I’d sometimes have to do the whole
roll call before I got the right one. But that’s another problem entirely, and I’ve heard other mothers
say they’ve done the same thing. Other
than those few examples, I had no
problem identifying objects or animals or trees or people. Until recently. And this is why I have to tell you: if you
hear me say I use a walker everyday, don’t believe me.
When I started chemo, I was told to stay out of the
sun, and quite frankly, I reached the
point where I couldn’t take Alabama’s summer heat and humidity. I knew exercise
was important and signed up for a yoga class and began doing yoga exercises at home. Then I read a lot of articles on the benefits of walking. So I thought, if we get a
treadmill I can walk every day no matter what the weather is doing. We
bought a manual treadmill. But once it
was set up in the house I developed a mind block and couldn’t think of what it
was called. I began calling it a walker.
Now there’s a big difference
between using a walker and using a
treadmill, not that there is anything wrong with using a walker- they can be wonderful aids
to mobility, particularly for people
recovering from surgery or suffering from fatigue or weakness that makes
walking difficult. And there are times
when I am definitely fatigued and when
my hip still remembers that it was hurt in a car wreck years ago
and protests loudly. But so far, I haven’t needed a walker. So if
you hear me say I used the walker today please don’t think I’m a poor little
elderly creature who needs to sit down and have her pillows plumped for her.
Just think of me as some scatterbrained eccentric who envisions herself
stalking rhinos through the sycamores
while trotting along in relative
comfort on her treadmill.😉
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