Friday, 1/7 -- Working out the balance.

I'm taking my own advice today and laying low.

Wednesday and Thursday I went to work to help out during Mega Week, the busiest week of the year for recruitment advertising. The week after New Years and the Week after Labor Day are traditionally the biggest Help Wanted sections of the year in newspapers.

Sadly, the newspaper print industry isn't what it used to be. The Internet has changed how people search for jobs, and how employers advertise. The whole process is a huge improvement, however, there is very little money for ad agencies anymore.

My employer is one of the few recruitment agencies that continues to be profitable. It's an impressive organization. I'm proud to be a part of it, although right now my contributions are limited.

I can't help but feel bad about that.
I have accepted the fact that I can't work like I used to. A 10 hour day used to be average. That's just how I am. When I love what I'm doing, time has little meaning.
I'd love to be able to work a full day and know that I accomplished something. But I have to take it easy.

My time will come again when I'm not going to be on chemotherapy. My stamina and strength will return, and I will be able to put out an honest effort and be proud of a good day's work.

Right now a good day's work involves listening to my body and managing the drug side effects.

I've just "cut myself some slack". Please congratulate me, it wasn't an easy thing for me to do.

Wednesday, 1/5 -- Ready... Set... sit. Good Monkey Boy.

Balance is the concept to concentrate on.
Harmony. Evenness. Fluidity.
Ying and Yang.

I want to find a balance in my recovery so that I don’t continue to push myself too hard. I have to let myself be a sick person, although I don’t think of myself in that way.

I am more confident than ever that good health will return to me. I need to be patient. I need to BE a patient. I have to let it happen in as much make it happen.

The equations are simple.
Normal Healing + Overconfidence = Eric in the hospital
Normal Healing + Pushing too hard = Eric in the hospital
Normal Healing + stepping back and resting = Eric’s continued recovery

Active rest. Full contact sleep. Turbo lounge wear.

It’s hard to know what your limits are without testing them. Unfortunately I stepped over the line a few times. But now I know.

I also know myself enough to be scared that I will hurt myself again. I’m just that dumb sometimes. It’s true.

I know these are some scattered thoughts here, but that’s ok for now. It’s a peak into my mind without having to touch any of the stinking goo that’s inside.

Tuesday, 1/4 -- Doughnut Poppems... we meet again...

Thankfully it was an uneventful day at the oncologists office.

No passing out.
No hospital stays.

My blood is in good shape.
My outward signs of health are good.
My mental signs of health are good.

I received my dose of bug juice and went on my merry way.

I had to go to the drug store to get my prescriptions filled. There always a little wait while they count the pills. I made the mistake of going into the Super Fresh next door.

Why a mistake? I'm still on the steroids. I wanted everything. I ran through the produce isle grabbing so much fruit and produce I must have looked like the Cookie Monster on speed.

Luckily I bought good stuff and not sugar bombs. Although some Entemann's Poppems made it into the car. We'll just ignore them, OK?

I'm looking forward to my triumphant return to work tomorrow. I haven't been there since I foolishly hurt my back. I'll try not to lift any heavy ads this week.

Monday, 1/3 -- It's not the steroids talking, but it could be the Advil.

The past three weeks have been a flurry of holiday activity, and I've been trying my best to keep up. I don't think it's any coincidence that I've had two stays in the hospital recently. I've been pushing myself physically too hard. It's like I need to prove to myself again and again that I'm not as strong as I used to be. Duh.

The first hospital visit was due to me lifting something too heavy, hurting my weakened back. Although I'm not nearly in the same kind of discomfort, it still does bother me. I gladly take my morning steroid to help manage the inflammation. Advil is still a good friend.

My second stay in the hospital was after my fainting spell in the doctor's office. That was one week ago. There are no lingering repercussions from that less-than-fun trip. But I must admit that I am more apprehensive about tomorrow's doctor's appointment than normal. I pray that I don't do a repeat performance, especially since I'll be self-conscious about it and I'll have all eyes on me. No pressure there.

Dance, Monkey Boy, Dance!

I do attribute it all, in a general way, to me pushing myself harder to be normal. That's ok, I just have to be smarter about it. I have to start to use some of this "wisdom" I've been collecting lately.

I've been fighting this disease intently for over six months now. I've made incredible progress. I've even impressed myself. I feel more in control of my fate than at any other time in my life. I'm not delusional about controlling my fate, but I now know that I'm not merely a plastic bag swirling in the wind.

My spirit has power that I never saw before. To be 33 years old and to discover this fact is a beautiful gift. Just imagine what I can do with my next 33 years. It boggles my feeble mind.

I can feel my strength, and my will, and my desire, and my passion for life. I can feel it course through my veins like blood. I know what it means to see my own mortality, and it has shown me what it means to be alive.

I've seen my own insignificance in the world, and I've found my place in it too. It's ok to be One person in Six Billion. Even if I'm a one in a million kind of guy, that means there are 6,000 people in the world exactly like me. I find that comforting.

So as I sit here too fatigued to leave the house, I'm swelling with a strange kind of strength. It's a warmth that grows not in my heart, but it vibrates through my entire body.

My physical strength eludes me, and I've worked so hard to regain it. What I've done in its place is built my other strengths to the point where I feel as though I could scoop myself up and carry me as far as I need to.

I'll put myself in my own pocket for safe keeping. It's warm and safe, and its a great place to be.