Somedays you eat the Bear, and Somedays…

Drink of choice: 2:1 Martini, up, with a twist. Gin: 50 Pounds. Vermouth: Dolin Dry. “A Very Good Martini.”

I like this time of year for drinking Cocktails “Up.” I can sit on the back deck, temps in the lower fifties, and the drink doesn’t get too warm too fast. Summertime requires something “On the Rocks,” preferably in a double walled glass.

I am, of course, grateful for the results shared earlier this week, made possible by Modern Medicine. However; make no mistake; these are Powerful Drugs I am taking. My goal, since I knew the course of treatment, has been to try and stay ahead of the side effects through exercise. I had been successful. Until this week. Then, I got my ass kicked.

Monday was perfect. Got my two lift sessions in, all reps completed (60 reps x 12 lifts=720 reps). Monday night, however, the Night Sweats started kicking in in earnest and have continued all week. I wake up, uncovered, soaking wet. For reference, Phyllis is under a winter weight blanket. Our bedroom is cool, ceiling fan on High. I get up, come outside- temps in the 30’s-40’s- mostly naked save a loin cloth and cool down. Go back to bed. Just as I am about to fall back to sleep, another round kicks in.

Tuesday a.m. I got up at 5:00 (or was I still up?) and took the Little Pug out. Usually I would go run stairs after that. Couldn’t’t answer the bell. Had to go lie back down. Then Tuesday happened (see previous post) and in the afternoon, after the emotional rollercoaster the day was, I decided in favor of strong drink over stairs. I stand by that choice. But, instead of my usual 144 stories of stairs, I did none.

Tuesday night- more Night Sweats. I wasn’t worried though because Phyllis and were taking Wednesday off (see previous post) and planned on going to The Gym together around 10:00 a.m. Which we did. At first it was perfect- I was the only one in the area, had my choice of weights. Perfect. During my second set, it started to get busy. I had to ask another gent if I could “borrow” the 70’s he was using (he was in between sets). As I was using them, controversy arose in my area, I lost concentration, I went too fast and something in my right arm went, “Oops. Should Not have done that. Nope. Definitely should not have done that.” I stopped that lift. Try to proceed to the next, but the answer was, “Nyet!”

Wednesday night- more Sweats. Couldn’t answer the bell in the a.m. to walk or run stairs.  It was all I could do to get out of bed and get to work, and then further all I could do to get some work done. I got home in the afternoon, knowing I needed to run stairs, but instead, took a nap. I hate when that happens. Got up with plenty of time to do my stairs; went to the store instead. So again, instead of 144 stories, I did none.

Last night- el mismo. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good schwitz as much as the next Soprano, but this is ridiculous. Justified not going to the gym this morning because I need to give my arm some time. Lumbered my way to work, managed to get most goals there accomplished, and came home. Knew I couldn’t lift, but. Somehow, someway, I found a gear and went and ran eight sets of stairs. Thats 72 stories worth. Do not know how I did it. I know I did not want to. I think those of you who workout will appreciate that I have very little memory of it. But I did it.

I am grateful for these drugs. They will hopefully save my life. I knew the bargain going in and knew what I would have to do. Going to take the weekend off and try again on Monday. I know my metrics, my goals are set. I hope to do a better job next week. I hope that Tuesday’s emotional ride played a big factor and, that behind me, I can forge ahead. I wonder, sometimes, if the fatigue is drug induced or self induced. No way to really tell. I firmly believe that the heaviest weight I have to lift is the three pounds located between my right and left ears. Its also the furthest distance one ever has to travel to get to where they want to be.

Again, no self- pity here. I am Thankful. I just want to memorialize the process in minutiae so that a year from now I can remember and share. Thank you for reading, thank you for being here. Thank you. Better days ahead. Much love.