A Sitting Duck (Part 3) - by Jude Meche
Jun 06, 2025Tricky Treatments
While undergoing treatment for the first time, I did not have a plan for staying active, but I was
lucky enough to make the right choices. Not every cancer patient will be able to maintain an
almost fully active lifestyle like I was, but every cancer patient should strive to be as active as
possible to ward off the long-term consequences of cancer treatment. One of the ironies of a cancer diagnosis is that you barely have time to process the trauma of your diagnosis before you jump headlong into treatment. Oncologists waste no time beginning treatment.
I’m not sure if that rapid pace was a blessing or a curse. I’m inclined to believe that the rush to
treatment kept me too busy for useless hand-wringing or the crippling coming-to-terms that
would have led me into a downward spiral of depression and anxiety. I had scans to assess the
disease’s progress. There were doctor’s appointments and bloodwork to determine how much
chemotherapy I could withstand. I had a mediport placed so that I could receive chemotherapy.
It was all a chaotic rush, and almost immediately after having my mediport placed, I was in the
infusion unit to receive my first dose of chemotherapy.
At the time, the standard treatment for Hodgkin’s was ABVD, an abbreviation for four different
chemotherapies used together. The A stands for Adriamycin (aka Doxorubicin). This is a particularly infamous chemotherapy; patients and oncology staff have given it the not-so-affectionate nickname “The Red Devil.” It leads to hair loss, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, and cardiovascular damage. The B is for Bleomycin, which can cause damage to the lungs. The Vis for Vinblastine, and the D is for Dacarbazine. I don’t remember many details about those two except that Vinblastine is derived from the plant group which includes vincas, which many people include in their flower gardens. I prefer them in the garden rather than in the bloodstream.
Along with the chemotherapy, each infusion included a host of steroids and Diphenhydramine
(aka Benadryl) to combat the worst of chemotherapy’s side effects. The Benadryl led to some
drowsiness while in the infusion room. I’d often doze off until my IV blasted its annoying alarm
to let everyone in the hospital know that my treat bags full of chemo were running dry.
After the drowsiness came the real trick. A long day in an infusion chair and lots of poisons
flowing through my veins should lead to fatigue, right? For me, not quite. My first two nights
after an infusion were not-so-wild all-nighters. The steroids that tamped down my side effects
led to some frustrating insomnia. I’d lie awake in bed until I just gave up and got up. Then, I
spent the rest of the night sampling the menu of delights that is late-night television. Not exactly
a gourmet feast for the eyes, ears, or spirit.
After those two nights, the steroids would wear off, and the fatigue would crash in on me like a
tsunami. Those were the days when I didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning and couldn’t
wait to get back into bed at the end of the day. Still, I managed to put a cap on my bald head and trudge off to work on most days. And, at home, I took care of my aging dog, prepared meals, and kept the place in relatively good order. My teenage son was always ready to help whenever I asked him, but I tried to ask as seldom as possible. There was something about giving in to the fatigue that I hated. I was lucky to not be an invalid, so I didn’t allow myself to become one. That was important, in more ways than one. Had I dumped all of my duties onto my son, I would have whiled away my hours ruminating over my sorry situation. More dangerous, I would have become weaker and weaker as my lethargy combined with the chemotherapy to eat away at my muscles.
Back then, oncologists didn’t talk much about exercising during treatment, and I was definitely
not exercising during the depths of my treatment. But I was active. In important ways, those
are the same thing. Primitive humans never needed to exercise because the requirements to
stay alive in a savage wilderness compelled them to be industrious. My situation wasn’t quite so
dire, but I stayed relatively healthy because I stayed active. The only thing I stopped doing was
listening to all those people who wanted me to play the part of invalid to meet their expectations.
My nurses and doctor were perfectly happy with my decisions and supported me. One of my
nurses told me that patients who had dogs tended to withstand chemotherapy better than those
who didn’t. Why? Because dogs need to be let in and let out and fed and walked. Having a
dog meant being more active, which led to better outcomes from treatment.
If there is one valuable takeaway from what would be my first experience fighting cancer, it
would be that staying as active as possible is essential. I was lucky in that I could do almost
everything I needed on my own. But even for patients who need to rely on others, activity will
be helpful in withstanding cancer treatment. I would encourage every patient to remain as active as possible, talking with their nurses and doctors about how to safely maintain a good level of activity, but ignoring the well-meaning voices of friends and relatives who encourage them to become voluntary invalids.
Jude has a PhD in English and decades as a college professor.
His personal training credentials are:
- Certified Personal Trainer, American Council on Exercise, Certification Number: N1286288. 1 September 2022.
- Adult and Pediatric CPR and AED Certification, ResusciTech, Certificate Number RT062424A972A. Expires 24 June 2026.
- Kettlebell Advanced Specialist, Living.Fit, Certification Number: 2289274630. 17 October 2022.
- MMA Conditioning Specialist, National Academy of Sports Medicine, Certification Number: 1231119038. 21 October 2023.
Jude's training business is called Two Fitness Nerds, and his email is: [email protected].
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