I Need a Personal Trainer

Greetings from my bed! The ABVD is working inside my body again and kicking the cancer cells goodbye. To tell you the truth, I feel quite kicked and beaten. How on earth can I handle NINE more sessions?!? Just thinking about going back to the hospital room on 10th August and listening to the dripping of the medicine makes me want to throw up. The smell of the plastic tubes is the worst.

Two pieces of news:

1.My hair has stopped falling. I'm stuck with the ”petit prince”-look. Most of the time I wear scarves and hats, just because the hair I have left is thin (and makes me look like a scarecrow) but there aren't any bald spots in sight yet. I'm not quite sure if this is a good sign. I mean, I hope the chemo is still working and has just decided to leave my hair alone.

2.I can't feel the swollen lymph node above the clavicle any more. It has disappeared in one week. This is definitely good news.

By the way, who ever said that cancer patients get thinner? I just seem to get fatter. I'll be the only one beating cancer 20 kilos overweight. Pretty soon the resemblance between Gilbert Grape's mother and I will be more than striking. The nurse told me it is the cortisone they give as anti-nausea. It tends to make the body puffy. However it may be, I've decided to take some action: I went for a walk yesterday. I took my iPod (Pixies make the best walking music) and managed three kilometers. I'm so out of shape, it's ridiculous. Who wants to join the gym with me in Barcelona, once I'm well?