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Old habits are difficult to kick.

I received a phone call last Friday from one of my clients, asking about availability for a weeklong job on the west coast. Instead of saying, “sorry I cannot do it,” I asked her to give me a weekend to mull it over.

I was feeling quite energetic on that day even though I worked for two days that week, and had an illusion that I might be able to travel and work for a week. Fortunately or unfortunately, however, I had very bad dumping syndrome on Sunday and Monday and ended up staying in bed, and had to face the hash reality; I still have good days and bad days, and cannot work 5 days in a row.

Naturally I informed my client that my health was not quite well on Monday, and I introduced a colleague for the assignment instead. When I called my colleague on her cell phone, she was at Washington DC airport for a next day job. She flew from Boston to Washington DC after finishing a job in Boston.

That’s right! That’s how I used to work sometimes in the past; you travel after a job for the next day’s work. I do not know when or if I can go back to that pace again. This job actually require quite a bit of physical toughness.

On Tuesday (1/30), I went in for a dilation procedure for the third time. My son incorporated the drive with his commute to work, and dropped me off at the hospital at 10:30 am and picked me up at 6:00 pm; the timing was perfect.

The nurse who took my vitals before the operation said, “your surgery was only late September last year? You are doing great!”

What I am facing is the expectation and base line gaps between recovering patients and normal, “functioning” adults. I am doing wonderful in my recovery and am an A+ patient, but I am like a toddler compared to energetic adult workers.

The fact that I look much more healthy and strong makes the situation more difficult. I still have shortness of breath and a backache when going up the stairs and walking fast, particularly after a meal. Part of me is grateful that I look healthy and am not treated at all differently from other people, but another part of me regrets that I do not get sympathy.

I assume that this is a story that is shared by many recovering patients. It takes a long time to get back to your previous level, and many of us never make it.

On Monday, I was interviewed by a Japanese FM radio DJ for a show that sheds light on Japanese nationals who are actively engaged in lives overseas. The show was only for 7, 8 minutes, but allowed me to talk about my cancer saga in addition to the MFA affiliated museum in Nagoya, and I at least managed to advocate the position of oncologist.

There are only a little over 40 oncologists in Japan. While the oncologist manages the patient’s care and works as the patients advocate in the U.S., the patients simply go to the surgery division for cancer treatment in Japan. Also, most of Japanese patients have to be hospitalized for chemotherapy, because there is no oncologist’s clinic. If a few listeners understood the role of the oncologist, it was worth mentioning it. The FM radio station linked my blog URL to their website.