I have a perfectly square sunburn on my chest, completely surrounding my left breast and tickling my armpit so as to include the site where the sentinel lymph node was removed. But I am DONE with radiation.
Done as in finished, ended, concluded, completed, fulfilled, wrapped up, sewn up and polished off. Finis! And darned happy about it. Can you tell?
Radiation Treatments – Not What I Expected
Out of all the treatments I’ve endured since discovering my breast cancer, radiation has by far been the easiest. I think it was a combination of the incredibly relaxing surroundings, the friendly and accommodating staff and the relationships built with other patients that made the experience so unusually pleasant that I never really felt like I was undergoing treatment for cancer.
From the moment I walked into the lobby with its plush couches, wingback chairs and working fireplace, I almost felt like I was visiting an old and dear friend. Spouses of the other patients nodded and smiled to me while Dania, the receptionist, called out her friendly greeting. She never failed to greet me by name before saying something to the effect of, “You’re lookin’ good today, darlin’.”
After signing in and changing into my gown, I would head to the patient waiting area. Decorated much as the lobby was, this special area also included a large flat screen television that quietly played soothing videos of nature. There wasn’t a hint of the stark and depressing environment one usually finds in a medical treatment facility. (Other medical facilities should take note!)
I quickly made acquaintance with the other patients awaiting treatment. Because each of us was scheduled for treatment at the same time each day, we were able to strike up conversations about our treatments, our families and the state of the country. While unusual, this bonding with the other patients was comforting.
One of the first patients I met, Steve, was really struggling with his treatments. He seemed depressed and ready to give up. I tried to encourage him and lift his spirits, but I’m not sure I had much of an effect. He completed his treatments about a week or so into mine so I don’t know how he’s doing now; but I still pray for him.
And then there is sweet Mr. H. We had dozens of conversations about our kids and he never failed to ask me how Nick was and if he was still in trouble. His kids were grown and gone, but he had plenty of encouraging (and occasionally hilarious) stories to share about the pitfalls of parenting. About halfway through my treatments, he completed his; so on his final day of treatment, he brought in “graduation” cupcakes for Charlie and me since he wouldn’t be there to see us finish our treatments. What a gentle man. I really missed him when he finished treatments and I wonder how he’s doing now.
My final couple of weeks of treatment were spent sharing the waiting room with Charlie and John, who were kind of surprised to discover that they were neighbors in the same community. We, too, enjoyed many conversations and checking on each other’s progress.
Radiation Treatments – Still Not What I Expected!
The technicians who treated me were both personable and professional. I hate to say that I had favorite technicians, but if the truth be told, I did. My absolute favorites were Steve and Holly, both of whom treated me for the majority of my sessions. It didn’t take long to discover that Steve liked to ride motorcycles (as my hubby and I do), and Holly’s son and mine were going through many of the same things. Happy Holly’s perpetual smile reached right down into her voice; and even when I couldn’t see her face, I could hear her smile. I also loved Becky (of my mapping tale), Melva and Debbie. Though they didn’t work with me as often as Steve and Holly did, their loving concern for me was evident.
The treatments themselves weren’t bad at all. I laid down on the treatment table with the molded pillow we made last week holding my arm in place over my head, while the linear accelearator was positioned over me and to my right. The technician would check the markings made on my chest during the mapping session to ensure the angle of the linear accelearator was positioned just right, and redraw them with the body paint if necessary. (That body paint is funny stuff. When you want it to stay on, it comes off; and when you want to scrub it off – like now, when I’m done with treatments – it stays stubbornly in place.)
Once I was in the proper position and the shields were inserted into the machine to protect the parts of my body that did not need to be treated, the technicians left the treatment room and went to the outer room to operate the machine, closing the heavy metal door behind them.
As the technicians watched me on the video monitor from their control desk, the linear accelearator made several clicking and whirring noises as it aimed the radiation beam from several angles. After two bursts of radiation (one for about 25 seconds, and a second for about seven seconds), the technicians came back into the room to reposition the machine to my left and under me to attack the tumor bed from the other side. (Since the tumor had been in my left breast, the angle of the radiation had to be carefully set in order to avoid damaging my heart or lung. Hence the upper right and lower left settings of the linear accelearator.) Another two bursts of radiation and the treatment was done.
Similar to getting an x-ray, the treatments were painless and quick. The part that took the most time was setting me up in position so that the tumor bed was the only area to be treated. By treating it from both sides, it was possible to give the tumor bed a higher dose of radiation than what would have been possible by treating it from just one angle. Since it spread the exterior radiation around a larger area, it lessened the damage to normal cells. I still got a pretty bad sunburn, particularly under my breast; but the technicians checked carefully each day for severe skin damage that would need treatment. Thankfully, though my skin was burned and did split in one area, it didn’t get to the point where we had to stop treatments.
Silly Hat Tricks
As you know from my Hat Party story, I have dozens of hats to choose from. I kept a regular collection of about a dozen hats at the front door that I would choose from each day, and a box of more fancy (think “church” or “Great Gatsby”) hats that just weren’t made for everyday wear. Until now.
In the first weeks of my treatment, everyone would comment on the different hats I wore each day. The “bling” hats seemed to be the favorites, so I started teasing that I had a special pink feather hat I was going to save for my final day of treatment.
On the week leading up to my final treatment, the fancy hats were out of the box. The black straw hat with neon stripes was first (and yes, I wore black pants and a neon pink shirt to match the hat. Who else do you know that has to choose CLOTHES to match a HAT?) The brown floppy hat was next, then the white Great Gatsby hat. And all these hats were leading up to ... The Pink Feather Hat.
Now if you want to see a silly hat, you’ve got to see The Pink Feather Hat from my friend, Lisa. When I pulled that hat out of the gift bag at the party, I thought, I’ll never wear this! Ahh, but I was wrong. The Pink Feather Hat was perfect to celebrate my end-of-cancer-treatments Final Day of Radiation. And it received such acclaim that everyone wanted a picture. Some even wanted a picture of themselves wearing it.
Back at Home...
Now that my hair is growing back in, my hubby has started calling me his “Ch-ch-ch-chia Pet.” (Those of you who are too young to know what that is will have to Google it!) And someone else just told me my hair is long enough now to be a Marine. I’ll just be happy when it’s long enough to comb.
Thankfully, life is almost back to normal. The fatigue is lessening some and my energy level is building. I have much to be grateful for this upcoming Thanksgiving.
