Those who know me, know I tend to anthropomorphize. That is, to take an inanimate or semi-inanimate object and ascribe human characteristics to it.  In my cancer world, the most recent example was naming the drain that accompanied me home from the hospital. In reality, what drain has a human name?

I’m at it again. This time I’m naming my weak arm Arm-anda. You may think this is silly, but I find it to be a great coping mechanism. I can separate Arm-anda from the rest of my healthy body and treat her accordingly. I assure you, however, she will not meet the same end that Duane the drain did.

Today was a solid 9.

The physical therapist came after the drain was out to give me exercises that will increase the mobility of my right arm.  If you’ve ever had a frozen shoulder, you have an idea of how limited my arm has become and how important it is to work on that.

There are nine exercises, each to be done at least ten times twice a day. They look easy, but they’re not. For instance, I’m to stand facing a wall and walk my right hand up it as high as possible; then hold it there.

I face the wall where the portrait of Ulysses S. Grant, former Union general and then U.S. President, hangs.  His eyes are almost parallel to mine, which means if I were really good at this exercise, my arm would be way above the top of his head. Currently, it only reaches Grant’s shoulder, and I imagine he’s thinking I’m a slacker.

According to the physical therapist, the most important exercise to be ready for radiation is Number Six. Lying on your back, clasp your hands behind your head with elbows pointing to the ceiling. Without arching your back or moving other body parts, now pull your elbows down to the bed or floor. It’s difficult, so I decided not to ask Grant his opinion again.

I am not a slacker; it’s just that four weeks of inactivity have taken a toll.

I don’t know what I expected once the drain was out of my life. Wait, yes I do! I expected a great sense of relief that I no longer had to be careful not to dislodge it, that I could wear less baggy clothing that concealed it, that I could sleep in any position I wanted, and that I could move my right arm any way I wanted.

I suppose three out of four isn’t bad, but my right arm is still numb and somewhat immobile. Not raising it more than 90 degrees in any direction for the past four weeks, plus the incision and the drain wound on that side, has made it stiff.

I’m not really complaining; I’m chastising myself for expecting to return to “normal” in one day. Normal will take much longer.

But I did take a real shower and wash my hair this morning, and I met with the home care physical therapist this afternoon. She gave me several exercises that could help my arm become limber again. If you’ve ever had a frozen shoulder, you can relate. I’m motivated because I can’t start radiation (I haven’t even written about that or chemo yet.) until I can put both hands above my head.

New challenges that made today only an 8.

This blog post is extremely pleased to announce that Anne Brandt and the drain known as Duane have formally severed their relationship. No tears were shed. Anne is resting comfortably at home while the whereabouts of Duane are unknown. Today is a 9.5.

I don’t know what happened but today Duane took a decided turn for the better. All of a sudden, he stopped draining a lot and chose to drain a little. That was this morning around 7:30 AM. We haven’t checked him this evening yet, but if he continues to drain slowly there is a chance he will go his merry way on Wednesday. Please, please pray that Duane is as tired of me as I am of him.

I realize this is only the end of Phase One of this cancer problem, with physical therapy and then radiation to follow.  Still, it would represent progress from my point of view. I could then sleep in more than one position, not have to wear concealing clothing, and generally will feel better about myself.

That makes today worth a 9.