Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I’m sitting on the floor right now, leaning against the wall. The massive, blue heating pad is wrapped around my core. I feel like it has become a part of me now. Its fuzzy anterior has become almost like a second skin. My MacBook is on a small pillow, laying across my thighs as I type.

I keep staring at the bed, wanting to peel myself up from the floor, and settle in for the night. But I can’t move right now. Maybe in a few minutes the strength and energy I once knew will return.

It’s not just the Lupron. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. My sister left to go back to NY (only to be stuck in South Carolina for the night due to flight cancellations). I miss her more than ever. It was so nice to have someone here close to me. It was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone. That someone cared enough to visit and spend time with me.

I loved every minute spent with her. I loved knowing that she would be near when I woke up. I loved saying goodnight with her beside me.

I loved hearing her laugh. Each giggle would make me smile. I loved showing her Arkansas, the place I have called home for too long. I loved sharing my little, crazy world with my precious sis.

I was getting used to having someone...close. But then it ended. Nee flew away. I drove to the gym.

And ran my 9 miles of training hell.

The run wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, but it was still hard. I have never in my life struggled so much physically and mentally with fitness. I have always been an athlete. I have always endured rather well. But being on Lupron makes the training hard.

Really, really hard.

My heart rates is pounding constantly. I’m always trying to catch my breath. My bones are screaming for relief. The nausea is nonstop. I burp almost every 3 minutes. Sometimes, the burping turns into vomiting, which isn’t so bad if I can catch it with the towel or run to the trashcan. But then there’s the fatigue too. It pulls me down with each step. Pain shoots from my ribs to my thighs. Every step is a fight to the finish. There are many moments where I am tempted to stop...and to quit.

But I keep running. Why not? If the pain will be around, why not train and run a marathon with it?

So, here I am, propped up against the wall with my blue, fuzzy pad of relief. My butt is going numb from the floor. My eyes are burning from exhaustion.

I’m done. Exhausted. Spent. Wiped out. Obliterated.

There is nothing left in me. Physically and emotionally depleted.

I wish I had my sister next to me. She’d make me smile at the situation or cry with me until we both bursted out in laughter.

Nee, you can come back now.

Pretty please?


  1. Thank you for sharing. Thinking of you. :)

  2. I wish you had her next to you right now too friend... I can't help wanting you to move home to be closer to your family... I know how much they mean to you!