My best guess is that I've got the edge of a minor bug and my body is busy shaking it off. Other than the cancer (ahem) I tend to be pretty healthy, avoiding or quickly shedding most colds that go around and whatnot. I suspect this is my immune system kicking up a fight. So I need to respect that. I never argue with my own need for sleep.
Still, in a weird way, sleep has become kind of triggery for me. On chemotherapy, the most explicit signal of my illness was the amount I slept. In the last month or so of treatment during this most recent cycle, I was sleeping as much as fifteen hours a day. Twelve hours per night, plus multiple daytime naps.
A surprisingly high number of my friends are insomniacs or otherwise have difficulty sleeping. I've had people express envy and even jealousy that I could sleep fifteen hours a day. Trust me, assuming you want to do anything else in your life other than sleep, it sucks, a lot, to spend that much time in bed.
For me, sleep is a barometer of my health. In my normal health, nine nights out of ten, I sleep fine. I go to bed when I want, fall asleep in moments, and wake up when I tell myself to wake up. I can be fully rested and charged up for the day on six hours of sleep. So when that begins to slip away from me, something's up.
And of course I'm worried about this new lesion in my liver. The follow-up CT scan and bloodwork are Monday, April 16th. I'll see my oncologists on Wednesday, April 18th. And then my life will change, losing another year to treatment; or it won't. The sniper is out there in the trees, taking more shots at me.
So at times like this I wonder... Is all this sleep my body fighting the cancer? My body succumbing to the cancer?
Thanks to the recurrent cancer, my life is like a clock running out. These hours of sleep are grains of sand tumbling to the bottom of the glass.