I think I know what palpitations are now.

It's midday and i'm lying on the bed.  Not doing much. 
I really should move the TV in from the spare bedroom so I can watch the Olympics but then i'm afraid I may never leave this room!  
You see, I think i've overstretched myself a little both physically and mentally.  As i've already mentioned, I only have two out patient sessions left and my consultant has told me that all my blood results are good. 
In my head that means:  It's done, get on with things.  
My body is telling me something totally different.  Just the effort of having a shower in the morning has me lying on the bed for ten minutes afterwards to recover.  The husband is telling me that's because the shower is too hot.  He's probably right but i've got it in my head that the hotter it is the more i'll sweat so the more of the horrid toxins i'll get rid of.  I tried that theory with a very hot bath yesterday to near disastrous consequences!  I did sweat a lot though.


And then today.. you'll see a pattern emerging here...
I took delivery of a new console table for the hallway, i've only been looking for one for five years.  If any of you know our hallway, you'll know that it's more of a wine cellar, so I decided to move a few boxes of shiraz around.  I think I know what palpitations are now.


So now i'm back on the bed with my survival kit around me.  Laptop, jug of iced water, glass of dandelion and burdock (amazing to sip and take away the chemo taste), some lip balm (currently using Kiehls Facial Fuel) and some Jaffa Cakes.  I'm too tired to even consider moving the TV. 


Here comes the thoughtful bit:


It's odd lying here, listening to the sounds of the world outside the window and knowing that life is going on as it always has been for everyone else.  Living so centrally means that there's no escaping this, especially when the restaurant downstairs is having it's deliveries at 5am during the Olympics..  In April I was part of all of that, rolling out of bed early(ish) on a Monday and heading for the nearest coffee shop.  Now i've been transplanted to a place where I just watch it from a distance.   
It's a bit like being one of Marley's ghosts.  You experience the world that you are inhabiting but can't take part in it.  People walk past not really noticing you and you don't want to impinge on their world with your condition.  That then leads you to wonder what part you will take in it when you do return.  Will I be a changed man or will I just slip into things as before?  It's far too early to tell on that front but the ghost of Topher present and past has already taught me some valuable lessons.


The husband is going to have to tackle the flat pack.  Lord help us!