I have had twins, been on my feet all day and still never felt this tired. My bones ache with tiredness and weariness. I can feel my blood flow, like lead, to my feet and hands making them so heavy to raise, to do anything. I keep yawning, desperate for oxygen and my eyes keep shutting. I am weary, bone-weary, run over by a truck - weary.
I was told this was going to be the worst time - 8 - 10 days after chemo which the doctor said 'might be marked by a little extra tiredness.' A little extra tiredness? That is like describing Katrina as a storm or the Tsunami as a wave. This tiredness, like that storm, or that wave, actually breaks out of the word's constraints, creaks open the letters and spills over the top. The meaning is simply too great, too huge for its container.
I have climbed the stairs twice tonight. I don't normally count but tonight, each step is like a flight of stairs, each move I make like a mile's jog, and each movement requires premediation and planning. This entry is my overture to my night's work when I lay myself down and finally, longingly, stretchingly and lovingly, lay my tired limbs to rest....