I have been battling the Fatigue Monster for the past five days, and when he (FYI, I arbitrarily designated this Monster as a male of the species; it could just as easily have gone the other way) hits hard —he must have copped some serious roids lately—I get to feeling like I must have had me a good ole round of chemo, just without the nausea.
If you’ve been there, this might sound familiar: every cell in your entire body hurts and aches, on top of which you could swear someone yoked you to an anvil when you weren’t looking, because walking has somehow been replaced by the excruciating dragging around of your now pathetic, humiliated self.
And, of course, nothing really helps you feel better fast enough, not Advil, not a nap, not a “walk,” not caffeine, not fresh organic food, green tea or mac ‘n cheese, not chocolate, not Western medicine, not Integrative or Complementary either, not yoga, not meditation, not anything. The Fatigue Monster has prevailed and you are now its lowly slave.
This becomes all the harder to bear when you are already two years out of chemo, and one year out of a couple of major surgeries: You feel like you should be so much better by now. And if you’re anything like me, you have always been a striver, a do-er, a putter of much pressure on yourself… a person whose will and tenacity had made it seem like you could get through all sorts of unusually harsh life-events and come back to The You You Thought You Knew—you know, the one with all that determination, energy, good cheer, and…. drumroll….. STAMINA. Aaaargh..