When Strength Looks Like Asking for Help
🌼 Date: Saturday, January 03, 2026
⚡ Energy: Heavy, humbled, honest
💕 Status: Upright with help. Grateful for it.
😒 Outlook: Learning the difference between resting and surrendering.
Today’s Lesson: Fatigue
Today’s lesson was all about fatigue — not the cute, “I’m tired, I need a nap” kind, but the bone-deep, strength-stealing kind that rewrites what your body can do without asking permission first.
After my second round of chemo, I messaged my oncologist to let her know that this round is hitting me much harder than round one ever did.
I know from watching my son go through this that each round can hit harder than the last. And if round two is already kicking my ass this badly, rounds three and four may very well have me parked in bed.
Right now, I have zero strength.
Casey has to help me put my chair down.
Sometimes he has to help me stand up just to get out of the chair.
I can’t open jars.
Or Gatorade bottles.
Or boxes of crackers.
I feel like such a weakling — even though I know I’m not.
Thank God for my Hercules, who steps in without hesitation and does all the things I physically can’t right now. And to the warriors who walk this road alone? You have my deepest respect. Truly. I cannot imagine doing this without someone beside me.
My oncologist’s response was honest and measured:
“Fatigue usually gets worse, but other side effects can vary, and sometimes other cycles can be better.”
Which, of course, also means… sometimes not.
If fatigue truly does get worse, I worry about what that looks like. I’ve already lived the version where a bedside commode becomes necessary because getting to the bathroom is too much. I hope I don’t end up bedbound — but if I do, I guess at least I can still type. Hopefully.
As if my body wasn’t already teaching enough lessons, I also spent the entire day wrestling with WordPress, trying to find a hidden glitch that was breaking my brand-new Daily Posts page.
It was a full-on mud wrestling match — except there was no one to tag in.
I walked away.
Ate a snack.
Got a drink.
Came back.
Repeat.
I went to bed without solving it — which is deeply un-Tina-like — but also… necessary.
Because today wasn’t about winning.
It was about knowing when to stop pushing and start listening.
Today taught me that strength doesn’t always look like doing more.
Sometimes it looks like admitting what you can’t do — and letting love step in where muscle fails.
💗 Tina —
One Badass Day at a Time
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