Most of these days, I spent them between the bed and the sofa, switching between them, so as not to get bored. Friday and Saturday sleeping, mainly.
We have printed a monthly calendar and stuck it on the fridge. We want to mark the days that pass with happy, serious or sad faces. Samirah and I can’t agree on how decide on grading the days. She thinks that if we take into account everything we’ve read about possible side effects, there shouldn’t be any sad faces on our calendar and I tell her that I have the right to feel bad and put on as many sad faces as I want. In the end, as always, we agree and put a serious face on the day of treatment, and yesterday, finally, a happy face.
It’s amazing how you hold on to the little things, to the walks you take, to a day with only a little nap, to a day without nausea. Calls and messages from family and being able to tell your people, those who are far away and those who are near, that today has been a better day, thanks to God.
I will not deceive you either. Yesterday, Sunday, I woke up sad. So much sleeping makes me think that my life is empty, I exist, but I do not live. Samirah tells me off and says that my expectations are a little ridiculous. I am sad although everything is going quite well. And in between the fights, I cheer up, take a shower, go for a walk, we cook together. And again, you hold on to the simple, the small, the insignificant.
Within my ridiculous expectations, I was being able to work today, Monday. My wife made me promise to take it easy and I think I’ve been on the borderline between what is too much in her eyes and a quiet day’s work for me. And how happy it makes me! Happy to know that today I’m back at work, happy to know that my body is supporting my desire to get back to normal. Of course, it’s not easy. This morning I had to set the computer to 120% because I was having trouble focusing my eyes. But I’m moving ahead, tricking my weakness with my little tactics: if I’m tired, I take a shower, if I need a break, I have a tea in the living room.
Perhaps I have abused my body today. I took a thirty-minute walk in the morning and a forty-minute walk in the afternoon. When I came back from the second one, I was white as a sheet, but with the satisfaction of having gone one step further. After the hibernation, I am holding on to the small things, to what is important.