Apr 132009
 

I’m sure I pissed off a few people on the MCL message board today with my comments about fatigue, and I’ll probably piss a few more people off with this latest post, but I can’t help myself. I actually enjoy sparking controversy sometimes, it helps get the juices flowing, not to mention fatigue is one of my favorite topics, second only maybe to discussions on the US health care system, or lack there of.

There seems to be constant discussion about fatigue on all the message boards, not just the MCL board, but it all boils down to lymphoma survivors claiming bouts of fatigue, after chemo, a transplant, or just from having lymphoma, without any logical explanation, e.g. low hemoglobin (around 10 g/dl), EBV, CFIDS, all which can be checked for.

I have to admit I am of the opinion of most of the doctors, who have little sympathy for these patients, that fatigue in the absence of a low hemoglobin etc. is mostly psychological.

Certainly there is the fatigue associated with receiving chemo or getting a transplant, but that is just the body’s natural reaction to be infused with deadly chemicals. I liken it to how I feel after an intense 70 mile bike ride.

I’M WHOOPED!

But eventually I recover, and in a day or two, I’m good to go, and do it all over again.

I’d even be willing to give all the sufferers of fatigue the benefit of the doubt, that going through chemo and/or a transplant is a lot harder on the body then a simple bike ride, but it doesn’t change my belief, in the absence of a low hemoglobin etc. fatigue is psychological.

I am fatigued every freakin’ morning, and just trying to get going is by far the most difficult thing I have to do every day. It would just be so simple to stay in bed, or sit on the couch all day watching TV, wallowing in my sorrow, feeling sorry for myself.

I just refuse to let it get to me, and I force myself to get out of that bed, and do something, whatever it is [usually a bike ride or golfing], because I know the more time I spend doing absolutely nothing, the easier it is to keep doing absolutely nothing.

So my advice to everyone is to get your butts out of bed, or off the couch and do something. You can start off slow, and build up your endurance. It will take time, but you’ll feel a lot better about yourself, and then you’ll even have that logical explanation for feeling fatigued.

Apr 112009
 

Besides my boss, and a select few others, I don’t make it a habit of telling anyone I have lymphoma. There are a few, who for various reasons, have asked about me, and I’ve relented, telling them as well, and then there are those that have stumbled upon my blog, but I have always believed those numbers to be very small. So it’s always a surprise when I discover someone, who I least suspect, is aware I have lymphoma, and it’s even more surprising when that person is someone I’ve just met for the first time.

Todays bike ride presented just such an instance.

With the help of a fortuitous traffic light, 6 of us had broken away from the main pack, and managed to stay away for a good time. I could have stayed away for the remainder of the ride, had I been willing to push myself a little more, but one of the other riders dropped off (there were only 3 of us remaining at the time), so I decided to drop off with him.

I hadn’t known the rider, so being the nice guy I am, I introduced myself. Now I can’t remember exactly how the conversation transpired, but he asked if I was the one who had lymphoma. He indicated another rider, who I did know (but didn’t realize knew I had lymphoma), had informed him. A double surprise.

He was asking, because his nephew (who was only 23 years old), had recently been diagnosed with lymphoma. So, after hesitating for a second (that’s just way to young to be diagnosed with lymphoma), I admitted I’m the one, and proceeded to tell him my life story. Well at least since my diagnosis.

So anyways, based on todays experience, I’ve learned a few more people know of my lymphoma, than I previously suspected.

It’s also surprising, since after all this time, I’m still not sure whether that’s a good thing or not. All I really no for sure is, so far, no one has indicated it is.

 Posted by at 3:16 pm
Apr 052009
 

You know for an anemic 60 (soon to be 61) year old, I think I’m in pretty decent shape. But even knowing that doesn’t change the reality, that I ride with a number of riders (at least 3) who are older than me, and in at least one case, considerably stronger.

So when I saw my buddy Gerry (the one older and stronger, and also a cancer survivor) this morning, along with a few other even stronger and younger riders, I knew immediately today was not a day to do the club ride. (Read Gerry’s comment on my last post, and you’ll understand even better why.) I knew it was going to be [very] fast, and after yesterdays hard hammer zone ride, I knew my legs were just not going to be up to it.

I’ve also never forgotten what Dirty Harry said in Magnum Force,

A man’s got to know his limitations!

and if there’s one thing I know, it’s my limitations.

I still ended up doing a pretty hard ride with two of my other buddies up Spyglass, and the back side of Newport Coast, but we did it a relatively moderate pace, and with the head wind on the way home, it still made for a quality ride, but without killing myself.

Plus there was still time to stop for coffee (in my case green tea) in Huntington Beach, and view some of the pretty scenery. (Alejandro will know what I mean.)

So today, unlike last week, I don’t feel bad at all about not doing the club ride, because I know I’ll live to ride another day, and just maybe [a big maybe], one day I’ll to be able to keep up with Gerry. At least I’ll have something to shoot for. :)

Thanks buddy!

 Posted by at 11:51 am