Sunday afternoons are the best. They are occasionally made better when the Rugby World Cup is on at the same time as the Formula 1, then the biggest challenge is to get all events scheduled and to understand where dual screens are required. Each day is different at the moment, especially since the events of the last week, more on that later. I’ve created a wee update board that I share on social media daily, which is helpful for me to chart this little adventure. For the record we are on round 2 of chemotherapy and it’s day 12. I’m a bit annoyed at myself that I didn’t record more over the last few months, but the weeks after the operation were pretty muddled in my mind.

I digress. So, and there are a lot of figures at the moment, we are also 8 weeks and 4 days since the aforementioned operation. Which means that I can start to look at my training in earnest. Before we go there, let me share that my (absolutely wonderful) surgeon warned me against going crazy with the training. In fact, she basically told me that I fitted her model perfectly of patients that would go on to throw a hernia. I heard these words and was determined not to be that patient, so, with huge difficulty I was (almost) a model patient. I didn’t (couldn’t) lift anything, I didn’t go to the gym (although I’m sure I could have) and I was supremely careful in the dojo. I’m sure I shouldn’t have been in the dojo, but hey, I’m sure I did enough on the others 🙂

I’ve always been someone who likes to know how my workouts are going. I recognise that not every session can be at 100%, that some are for form, some for strength etc. and over the years I’ve used a range of monitoring technologies. What was very interesting was having this data to hand whilst in hospital, things like baseline heart rate and respiration rates of course came into focus, and being able to share these was quite valuable.

So yes, since I’ve been going through this Chemotherapy I’ve been looking at each day with a sense of slight worry. In the sense that something might suddenly start to go wrong. Let me paint a picture. When you start Chemotherapy you have to get some bloods done a few days beforehand, you have a meeting with your oncologist and then pharmacist and they go through all the various permutations. Now at this stage, no one knows how you might react to all this new in-body chemistry, so they throw literally everything that could go wrong at you. I get that, they have to, and I didn’t go and read loads on the web, but yeah it’s concerning.

Day 1, Round 1, I showed up, as always, 10 minutes early and I was next in line at reception. What lay ahead of me was a huge area with people perched all around the room, some attached to their Chemotherapy drips, others waiting. Ahead of me a woman in deep conversation (read that as loud) with the receptionist, who was a lovely lady from Northern Ireland. Turns out this woman hasn’t done her bloods and “just wants to get on with her treatment”. Excuses started coming thick and fast, none of which was helping me as I was only a few weeks post surgery. Now how someone thought they could just be given cytotoxic materials without the proper safety procedures in place is beyond me, but with excuse after excuse, the receptionist calmly listened and mentioned that “you know I’m not actually a doctor, I can only go by what is on my system”. Madness.

Finally I was in my big comfy seat in a corner with my fellow travellers dotted around the space and we began. That was it. You don’t really feel anything on the first day, you just sit there, and in my case you work. I had a power socket and the network is pretty good so for the 5 hours or so that I was there, I worked. Which suited my team as they 1) knew where I was 2) knew I was online and 3) knew they would get an answer if they needed one 🙂 so that kept me busy. Day 1 being chemo day, the next two should be the same, no side effects are normally felt and days 4 and 5 are when I was told I’d probably feel “the effects”. Well they didn’t come, well, lets look at that again, I didn’t experience any side effects but that’s not to say I won’t in the future. Hence every day is a bit more of an adventure than normal.

With training as I mentioned earlier, I keep a heart rate monitor on for all sessions and I have a range that I need to work within, I mostly do, but the good news is that I’m actually starting to feel my power again. Which, with the words of my Doctor, I’m conscious not to push, but it feels amazing to sweat properly again. Miles away from watching the class whilst in hospital or having to sit on my hand at the back of the class. (Hand sitting required as I was starting to become animated which was ill-advised for my recovery)

Then on Tuesday I got the news that Paddy was taken off his bike by a woman who didn’t look and pulled across the road. He has 4 broken ribs and a mashed clavicle. Still, we will find a way. Each day, as I said, is a wee adventure, sometimes it’s just the moving around and learning to do so that is the adventure. But such is life, you work it out, you find a way. and then the moment has passed. So for now, I’m the able bodied one in the house, the one not taking morphine and the chief cook!

For now, we are dual screening sport on a Sunday evening (Rugby and F1). I’ve been to teach at Tooting Dojo (Black Belt class) and then onto a Ladies Self Defence Course (which I haven’t taught in years but was great fun). I’ve had to review my own training and go back to basics, so that’s what I’m focusing on in my teaching. So our wee house is all about the recovery at the moment but we are doing well!