CC wants to go for a walk. Just a little 15-minute breath of fresh air- walk around the neighborhood to keep her body moving and circulation in check.
This is CC the every Saturday morning intense mountain hiker.
CC the yoga maven.
CC the physically fit 53-year-old woman who puts the Energizer Bunny to shame.
I constantly slow my pace to keep in step with her. My dynamic, fit, bundle of exploding energy friend has been replaced by Tim Conroy shuffling along, “Aw Missus haWiggins?” I’m completely stunned and a wee bit unsettled. And not just because I’m old enough to quote characters from, The Carol Burnett Show.
Ironically, it’s gearing up to be holiday movie TV season and both CC and I have a soft spot for the Abominable Snowman. I resist the sick urge to start singing, “Put one foot in front of the other and soon you’ll be walking across the floor. Put one foot in front of the other and see you’ll be walking out the door!”
Honest to God—How could such a vibrant, strong woman become, in just a day’s time, become so debilitated and weak?
In 15 minutes we walk one block. One.
We stop often to critique choices of landscaping, light fixtures and privacy gates.
We stop to let CC catch her breath.
To let the rays of Southern California November sunshine break through the brisk canyon air and brush our faces.
To gather momentum to shuffle back to the house, down the hall and into bed.
With each passing month, the effects of chemo will become accumulative, meaning after each round, CC will get weaker and weaker, with increased pain and lifestyle crushing consequences.
This is going to be a very long year.