So 99.9% of the trip went by with no major health hiccups. I discovered that my legs get progressively weaker over a long day and/or a long drive - which led to the discovery that the steps in a pool or hot tub are TOO DAMN TALL when my legs are tired. And also that my sciatic issues in my right leg get very dramatic on a long drive, especially when exacerbated by being very tired. But all pretty manageable. Then, literally on my own front porch, I tried to get my big bag into the house (it has wheels, seemed perfectly doable!) and managed to trip on my step, get tangled in the bag, and sort of fall over sideways, partly onto the front walk and partly into a cyprus bush. After a moment to catch my breath and collect myself, I was able (with the help of my friend) to get to a seated position, then kneeling position. But I Just Couldn't Get to My Feet. Even holding onto the handle of the screen door and with my friend supporting on the other side, I just couldn't get my legs to support me enough to stand. Thankfully a couple of neighbors happened by walking their dog and offered to help - one of them was able to just get his arms under my armpits and lift me up. Once I was on my feet I was OK, I just couldn't get there on my own. It was so frustrating and humiliating. And my poor friend was on the verge of a (literal) panic attack because she couldn't help me enough. As if the cancer wasn't enough, the chemo destroying my strength and balance like this is really NOT OK. My pre-diagnosis body was far from perfect, but pretty good, comparatively. I really didn't know how good I had it.
Anyway, I'm OK now. Sore, as you might imagine. A small scrape on my elbow and a pretty good bruise down my back where I landed on the edge of the front step. And the bruised ego, of course. My friend kept saying, "You have to remember to ask for help!" And I kept replying that "I didn't want help! I wanted to do this one thing on my own!"
I was really hoping to avoid turning into my mother (in her 70s) physically. I really didn't want to turn into her at 54.
I haven't decided whether I'll post this on FB. There are people who would want the info, but too many who would worry too much, especially those too far away geographically who would just feel bad because they're not close enough to help. But I wanted to get it out and I know I can trust you guys to be sympathetic and supportive - and not to make me feel bad for making you feel bad.