I asked Dad if he was going to play golf tomorrow and he said that he wouldn't because he was worried about stressing his body. He said he was just focused right now on gaining as much weight as possible.
I was insistent that he play golf. I said that exercise would not weaken or stress his body, but quite the opposite: make it strong in preparation for the chemo. I told him that he was developing the wrong mental attitude and conceding already to the sickness before it was even making him sick. He said he wasn't sure he could walk very far. And I (no mercy) told him it was all mental. Mr "YaBut" argued with me for a little while and then compromised: He would go on a morning walk in addition to an afternoon walk every day.
I know from my time with him in Burlington that a 3:30 coffee is really important to keep him going toward the end of day. And yesterday and today he was saying how this sickness was making him so tired at the end of the day. Mr. No Mercy insisted that it was because he was not doing his coffee routine. So, today I made him coffee. And sure enough, an hour later, he was saying, "ooh! I feel good. Maybe it is mental."
Today, after Nicky, Christian and Till left, all three of us went on the walk. As soon as we started walking, Dad started saying, "Ooh, I don't feel bad at all. My legs don't hurt. I don't understand it. I feel fine. This is good. Maybe you were right; it was all mental."
He kept repeating how glad and appreciative he was that I had pressured him back into a routine that is really important -- both to him AND to Corinna.
Wait until he is puking and losing his hair and I tell him it's all mental.
PS: If you click on Dad's picture, it comes up larger.
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