Back to normal

On Wednesday I would have had another chemotherapy session, had the treatment program not been over after round 12.  I was happy that things ended when they did.  My body was stricken, barely holding up, though I was too focused on the fight or too stubborn to recognize it.  I needed the rest.

Now that I’m fully beyond the twelfth round, I should be feeling better than I have in nearly six months.  I didn’t have such a long recovery period in half a year.  My body is reclaiming its health, however much there is of it.

I can feel it in my nose.  There’s less blood there than in a long time.  The other day, the slime in my nose was almost clear with no hint of red in it.  I had almost forgotten that this was normal.  The cold sensitivity is gone from my fingers, though this has probably less to do with the oxaliplatin fading from my system than with a ridiculously warm April.  We’ve had endless days of sunshine that called for a t-shirt rather than a jacket.  Spring has truly arrived.

Besides the lingering polyneuropathy – which I don’t like to call by its name because it reminds me of my disease – in my fingers and feet, I feel almost like a normal person again.  My bedtime has slowly shifted back to way past midnight, and I’ve started to work on the nearly 50 bottles of wine that have accumulated in our basement.

Another thing that’s almost back to normal is the public health situation in Switzerland.  The schedule for the lifting of the coronavirus-driven restrictions was announced on Thursday.  That’s when the epidemic ended for me.  If tattoo parlors are allowed back open – at the expense not only of bookstores but also of schools – the situation can’t be grave.  I cannot take any of the remaining restrictions too seriously.

We immediately decided to stop this home-schooling nonsense and send the children back to where they belong.  A day later I would read with much surprise in the news that establishments looking after young children – in contrast to kindergartens and schools –  were never subject to any restrictions in the first place.  It’s moot now to discuss what was the point of the endless exhortations to show solidarity and keep you children at home.

When I hesitantly called the boy’s crèche, the head teacher was almost enthusiastic about his coming back.  “No problem at all”, she said.  “Yesterday, we had eleven children.”  We’re clearly not the only ones losing our spirit of sacrifice, or at least our patience.  The last day the boy went to childcare, five weeks ago when things started to look grim in Switzerland, there were only three kids.

Two cheers to recovery.

For the girl, it was almost easier.  Following up on a missed call from her after-school program, I was asked whether we planned on having her attend next week.  All that remained for me to say was, sure.  Thus we’ll have a much quieter and probably more productive week ahead of us.  And it doesn’t really matter that the Corona Extra I purchased to celebrate the end of the pandemic didn’t survive the weekend.  Ignoring shopping and entertainment restrictions – which don’t bother us much – and home office, we’re back to normal already.