Weeks 17 & 18

Suddenly I’m thrown back to the big question that taunted me in the middle of the chemo treatments a couple months ago – how active can I be? Only this time, the limiting factor isn’t fatigue from the chemo. It’s those newly-installed stents in my heart.

          Not that I hadn’t been advised to take it easy, but I felt good after getting the stents. So last Sunday, Mother’s Day, two weeks minus a day after the stents, the lawn needed mowing. It’s never seemed like heavy exercise. I figured it wouldn’t hurt as long as I beat the height of the 80-degree heat and the sun by going out at 10 a.m. By the time I finished some 45 minutes later, I knew it was too much.

          Since then, I’ve felt on-and-off pains and tingles. A call to the cardiologist’s nurse on Monday prompted two pieces of advice: 1. Don’t do that again and 2. If you feel bad, go straight to the emergency room at Buffalo General Hospital. So on Thursday health care proxy Bill Finkelstein also did extra duty as my lawn mowing proxy.

          But the heart thing has become much more worrisome than the cancer thing. The cancer is treatable and predictable. It’s causing a major change in my life and it certainly could snuff me out, but it shouldn’t. The heart, on the other hand, could turn on me at any minute and kiss my butt goodbye. That’s what happened to my cousin Marsha, my mother’s brother’s daughter. She died suddenly Wednesday of a heart attack in Florida at the age of 62.

          Meanwhile, I’ve been playing bridge by day and working by night. Today, Friday, the bridge was a regional tournament in Rochester, an hour’s drive away on the Thruway. At least at bridge, I told a friend, there are retired medical professionals in the room. What if you get stricken while you’re driving, he asked. Guess I’ll just have to pull over, I said. Sudden thought – better not put the car on cruise control.