Released? Free? Offbeat!!
If you have read the previous pages, you will understand that this “after” is just a euphemism, as the beast is still there, but it's still cooler than “during.” I resumed my activities in early May (although I wasn't completely inactive during the previous three months), 15 days after the last chemo I'm trying to keep everything going with the help of my loved ones, the people I work with, and the Team, fighting against an undeniable feeling of exhaustion, a bottomless fatigue that is diminishing very, very (too?) gradually. I've experienced levels of exhaustion and energy lows that I never even knew were possible, and for the first time in my life, I've felt physically... old. When you climb three flights of stairs with groceries and have to stop on the second floor when you literally kill yourself just changing the cables and configuring your computer network, without even moving the machines themselves, and I'm not even talking about the famous Covid day when I was moving forward 20 cm at a time with my head spinning, no strength, my body semi-autonomous, its pilot too affected to decide what to do.
Flashes! Hinhiiin..
Since then, although I am neither morbid nor pessimistic, quite the contrary, I have flashes. What would happen if... ? What would change if suddenly... ? These trials, especially during the two or three days when Covid came along, made me feel, in a very tangible way, both physically and intellectually, the permanent fragility of our biological life, how much we are on a knife edge, a tightrope. This triggers “flashbacks of instant death” in me. Popopop! Calm down, it's nothing to worry about, but suddenly the idea that you could die in the next second flashes through your mind at the speed of light. You didn't see it coming, it doesn't linger: it's like a reminder, a sword of Damocles, like Proust's madeleine. It doesn't happen often, which is what makes it so poetic. It's just a slightly different way of looking at things.
Smell
I'm left with a heightened sense of smell, which is rather unpleasant on a daily basis. As much as I loved rediscovering all those smells when I quit smoking in the last century (!), now it's like a smell amplifier, fortunately less powerful than during the most intense part of the treatment. And when you're confronted with a smell that's already strong, it's like a guitar amp, it saturates your olfactory cells. So I often lose my appetite, for example if I bump into the guy from the Axe ad. Then I just have one of the protein yogurts prescribed by the nutritionist for loss of appetite: things that are full of everything, fat, protein, etc., which nourish you like a meal. They're not very good, but they're not disgusting either. Yogurts from between two worlds, basically.
I'm still not interested in medicine: I see that as a form of self-protection, and given the number of competent people working on my condition, I don't need to worry about it. I have even more respect for healthcare professionals than before. I've learned a thing or two about cancer, the tests that are done, some of the equipment and how it works. I've gained experience as a patient and don't feel the need to go any further. This is another example of “positioning”: being in the right place at the right time, having the right team, etc. The rest...
