If you're getting better, you can't be getting worse.
These are the words of wisdom I've repeated to myself in the past few days after Mike at physical therapy told me how much better I am doing.
"When you first came in here, I was afraid of you driving home," he said.
My time at PT is almost done, but Mike said he'd get me some extra sessions to work on my balance and strength. My fractured collarbone has healed, my banged-up knee is better, I've played tennis a few times and felt fine, and today I returned to the gym, riding a bike and doing some leg exercises.
On some days I feel like myself, but mostly after exercise I hit the couch. Occasionally I feel lightheaded, which worries me even more. My rational mind knows that this period of recovery is normal, but somewhere it got in my mind that I might be relapsing.
Of course if I just stayed on the couch I might not get as tired, but that's just not something I do (unless I'm watching the U.S. Open or the Democratic convention).
I don't think the fear ever goes away. It recedes to the back of your mind – you'd go crazy if you thought of it all the time – but certain things like fatigue can bring it to the forefront.
I'm on a two-month checkup schedule, so my next Dana-Farber appointment isn't until October. But I moved my appointment ahead to next Thursday. Luckily the process of getting checked just involves a blood test. Hopefully (OK, probably) my blood counts will be fine, and I can put the printout on the fridge to remind myself not to worry.