Someone Served Superman a Kryptonite Milkshake!

I expected the fatigue part of chemo to be incremental, kinda sneak up on me, but that hasn't been the case.  I'm not Superman, but I now feel like I've just drunk a Kryptonite Milkshake.

I used to take the stairs two at a time; now I'm waiting for the elevator (and lustfully eyeing the wheelchair).

I used to stride; now I stroll.

I used to LOVE this hot, humid weather; right now I can't get a good deep breath.

In short, my allegro has become an adagio.

My radiation tech and all the cancer survivors I know are telling me to listen to my body.  They are right (man, it kills me to say that!) and I have to slow down.  One person reminded me that at the molecular level, my body is fighting a war that I can't see (a war I need my body to win!).  The more resources I draw away to do things I think are important the more "aid and comfort" I'm giving the enemy.

So I'm going to shut down my PC, turn on the British Open and snooze (whether I like it or not).

To quote a REAL superman (whose life I've admired for years), "I SHALL RETURN!"