Marathon Woman

Yesterday I went in to Mass General for a CT scan. Why? I’ve had headaches off and on for a week now. This is, surprisingly, uncommon for me. You’d think, given my tumor riddled bean, I’d be suffering mal di testa on the regular. Nope, I’m not. Interesting but true.

Given that I had surgery just two months ago, it seemed (to me and my brain pit crew) like a good idea to lift the hood and have a look see. Why have I had a week's worth of headache action? I expect I’ll get results and recommendations on Monday.

The biggest deal about yesterday was this—I was feeling pretty good when we got to the hospital—no headache and I had energy. Though the joint’s huge and my scan was being done in a different building from where the parking garage was located, I passed on wheelchair action. If I want to build strength up and get back to where I was pre-op (and I do), I NEED to walk more. I’m still ridiculously weak and that’s flat-out unacceptable. So, it was me and Zeke on the go.

By the time we (me, Ten and Zeke) made it to the Blake building I was breathing like an untrained runner on mile three of their first marathon. Oooof, NOT pretty.

After the fast CT scan, Ten and I headed back to the garage, which now seemed a zillion miles away. I would have liked to stop for a coffee and pastry (to delay the exhausting, long trek back to the car) BUT there were zero benches around the first floor’s hallway café. Dammit!

About halfway back to the parking garage I began wondering if I’d make it. Maybe Ten should go find me a wheelchair? NOPE. I was gonna get there on my own power even if I had to take a rest break every 30 feet, dammit!

As we crossed the bridge between the Lunder Building and Yawkey, I found myself chanting I-don’t-think-I-can-do-this, I-don’t-think-I-can-do-this, I-don’t-think-I-can-do-this, I-don’t-think-I-can-do-this. I was the little train that couldn’t BUT I could and I did.

Finally we got to Yawkey and rode the elevator down to where we were parked. It was now time to walk downhill to the car. So ya know, walking downhill is harder than up. I was nervous—given how exhausted I was, would I be able to control my speed? Could I keep hold of my walker’s handles, not let it get too far out in front of me? Would my legs give out? Would I tumble and fall, rolling under some giant, stupid SUV?

No, I did not. I succeeded in staying upright, on my feet. Yea me!

After sitting and downing a half gallon of water, I checked my tiny phone’s step app. We had walked .83 of a mile. That’s the most I’ve walked since early May, before surgery. The farthest I’ve gone before this was .68 of a mile. WOOHOO!

Today, I’m gonna play it smart. I won’t take a big walk. I’ll just do a couple of short rides on the elliptical. Also, it’s gonna hit 500 bazillion degrees out there, even with the sea breeze. I’m staying in the AC, thenkyouveddymuch! Tomorrow, I’ll try for another world conquering stroll.