Everyone is different, but me, I don’t like to complain. About bad food at a restaurant, bad service in the world, or my health. In general, or specifically as relates to my health, complaining does no good to change the course of my diagnosis or prognosis, it sounds bad to me if I were to hear it out loud (coming out of my mouth), and when people are always so kind and concerned to ask how I’m doing, I’m reluctant to reply with a whine or a grouse (not to be confused with wine paired with grouse).
Of all the things (side effects) that could have happened to me along the path of my journey, very few actually came to pass - for which I am truly thankful and grateful. That’s what makes the CIPN (Chemotherapy-Induced Peripheral Neuropathy) that I do have, stand out. More because of the singularity of the annoyance, not the gravity of it. And, unlike Diabetic Neuropathy, which is very painful, can compromise your balance, and is generally a debilitating discomfort in the “dogs” - my CIPN feels more like sand in my shoes than anything agonizing or ambulation altering.
There are a few things at play that can possibly arrest the current situation, or perhaps at minimum decelerate the progression (which has been very slow, but steady over the past 7 years).
- Now that I am no longer having any chemo (one of the ancillary benefits of CAR-T), perhaps since it is Chemotherapy-Induced, it may begin to abate
- I’ve heard about a lot of remedies that might be able to help (and tried a few; like acupuncture), but many sources, including my Oncologist, have suggested that daily Vitamin E and B-12 Complex might be worth a try - so I try. No immediate results so far, but it is honestly difficult to assess the lessening of worsening or the presence of absence
- Though not prescribed, I still try to walk about 30:00 each weekday (it doesn’t hurt and I suspect it can help), in the hopes that this can contribute to maintaining my balance, maintaining the circulation to my bipedal extremities, and maintaining the mindset that my walking is still working
One of the simple pleasures that I enjoy in life is walking or hiking (even-terrain hiking). Will irony eventually take hold and I will lose my ability to walk - lose this simple pleasure? I’m not going to dwell on that, but I confess that the thought has crossed my mind on occasion. Everything else throughout my journey has gone so well for me, will this be my figurative and possibly literal Achilles heel? Inspired by one of my very favorite bands, I “pray:” Feats Don’t Fail Me Now (or then).
