Napping is not just for little kids. Before your cancer, if you only napped when sick you may associate the idea of a nap with illness. For your well-being, you should change your mindset. Be sure to recognize you need to treat yourself well. A nap is on the must-do list, not a luxury for others.
After my life-saving stem-cell transplant, at least at the beginning, most of the time I took two naps a day. During the fall of 2011, I was on sick leave from my job before transitioning to long-term disability. So I had the leisure to nap while away from work commitments.
If you, too, have the luck to take some time away from work, do it. Your body, mind, and spirit need to nap. Try to be the best recoverer you can. Never stifle yawns—instead, understand yawning as a sign to curl up under the covers to snooze, whether you just had a big lunch (siesta time), or you feel a natural dip in energy due to circadian rhythms at four o’clock in the afternoon. Nap in the morning or before dinner if you need to. Give yourself permission to nap.
What about those who continue working throughout the transformative experience of having cancer? Underneath the cloak of hierarchy at organizations are human beings, just like you. Talk with your supervisor, negotiate with the human resources department, share your napping needs with colleagues. It is vital in your role as recoverer to have others recognize and support your need to nap, ideally for at least twenty minutes each time. If your workplace is not conducive to lying down behind closed doors, perhaps ask to space out for even a few minutes off your feet in a chair.
As I detailed in Chapter 4, your body and mind recover during sleep. When you can no longer concentrate on your project, if you cannot stifle that yawn, recognize you need, nay, deserve a bit of shut eye.
A nap is a small price in time to pay to rebuild your identity.