April 28, 2006 - Spectator

This morning I go for my first actual physical therapy appointment. The exercises the staff lays out for me do not seem strenuous, in a cardiovascular sense. They’re more focused on range of motion – stretching and that sort of thing.

They have me begin with some hamstring-stretching exercises up against a wall, then have me spend seven minutes on a seated step-machine – which is something like a stationary bike that works the arms as well. After that, I stand between a set of parallel bars and move each of my legs back and forth: back, front and side-to-side, in turn. Following that, it’s onto a reclined exercise board, on which I do some squats, pushing myself and the board up and down along its track. Finally, I lie down on a table, on my back, while Marcia, my therapist for today, extends each of my legs upward and holds them for a number of seconds – another stretching exercise.

All this makes me feel more tired than I would have predicted. It doesn’t take much to get me out of breath these days, and it seems that even the stretching exercises use up more oxygen than I would have expected. But I’m not exhausted by any means.

It’s a beautiful day, as a matter of fact, so I buy myself a cup of decaf coffee and drive over to the Inlet. I happen to have my digital camera with me, so I take photos of the two boats I see: one, a commercial fishing boat headed back into port, and the second a Coast Guard rescue boat going out to sea – on a training mission, no doubt.

The Inlet is one of those places where it’s easy to be a spectator. Sit there long enough, and you’re sure to see a boat go by. This time of year there are just a few, although on a summer weekend it’s a constant parade. I’m far more interested, myself, in the working boats – the fishing boats, the Coast Guard vessels – than the ubiquitous cabin cruisers with their sport-fishing poles. Whatever sort of boat it is, though, the Inlet is one of those places where there’s a sensation for the spectator that the world is slowly passing you by.

Sometimes I feel that way, as a cancer patient. I’m not so deeply engaged, these days, in the activities that in any other season of life would have kept me complaining of how little time I have. These days, there’s plenty of time – at least for things that aren’t mentally or physically strenuous. I’m not so sick that I’m detached from my former life, nor do I feel well enough to throw myself into all the things I used to do. Even if I did feel that way, with my sixth and final chemo treatment coming up in a few days there wouldn’t be much point in going back into high gear – because I’ll be pulling back again soon enough.

So, I content myself with being a spectator. It’s not a bad place to be, for right now...