Slugdom

I was becoming a slug barely able to move. The second chemo had created a tsunami of fatigue. Normally I don't cry at the effort of opening a beet vacpac or have to rest half way up the stairs.

At the consultation Dr. V. took it seriously and thought that the chemo was too strong for me. My white blood cell reading had been okay...or least it was in the report she'd been given. Unfortunately, it wasn't the one done an hour before. It was way, way down.

She also ordered a consultation with a cardiologist. That was about 15:30. The consultation was slated 7:50 the next morning. She faxed the one that said I had a strong heart done in Argelès in August to him.

Two days later my heart is fine, my blood cells are looking better, my chemo will be reevaluated to a lesser but still potent dose and I am returning to feeling human but still not perfect.

Clues: I took everything off my desk and I made my bed. I set down at the computer instead of using the iPad as I lay in bed. I put on earrings.

I was complaining to Rick how I hated being a slug. He suggested a career change. "You can be a sloth instead."