I am moving along with life and nearing the end of my treatment, and I think that I am doing fine. Then yesterday afternoon, I tell Steve to give me 45 minutes to rest as I wanted to join him on a dog walk. I got up, changed clothes, and I think that I had taken about three or four steps beyond our gate when I ended up down on the sidewalk. My knees and hands were scraped, and I was quite shaken. It was all I could do to get up and get back inside to lie down.
Steve keeps reminding me to take it easy that I am not fully healed. He is right, but I keep ignoring him and try to keep up my pace pre-c.
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