I
thought chemo was tough. I thought recovering from surgery was hell. Then I
started radiation…
The
process of receiving radiation in and of itself is not that bad. Aside from a
slight case of claustrophobia induced by a large machine spinning around me and
the quickly-wearing-off novelty of driving to downtown St. Paul at 7:00 each
morning, it’s not so bad. The radiation itself is not painful. The technicians
are chatty and fun. My radiation oncologist is friendly and informative. And everybody knows my name. In that
way, it is kind of like a certain 80s era Boston bar.
Any
resemblance to Cheers, however, ends after about the 20th treatment.
That is when the skin begins to itch. When it begins to peel. When it begins to
hurt like a motherfucker. When is becomes such a deep, dark red color that it
looks almost black. That is when the fatigue kicks in full force. When the
simple act of running to Target becomes a barely surmountable test of
endurance. When fatigue forces you to bed well before your grown-up bedtime.
Like a toddler who has been naughty.
That
is where I am sitting right now.
I’m
pretty miserable, but at least I can tell myself that it’ll all be over next
Tuesday, I will complete the BIG THREE treatments in 2016! I’m not sure why
this is important to me, but I want to put this year behind me for good. I want
to finish the major treatments and move on to the much easier medication phase
in 2017. So despite the pain and fatigue, the end is near.
But
wait…
I
overslept this morning. That is a surprisingly easy thing to do when you are
exhausted beyond ridiculousness and every other creature in your house – human
and canine – are on Winter Break or do not have to be at work until noon.
Everyone else gets to sleep in, but I get to go to radiation.
I
normally leave my house at 6:45 to allow for a quick stop at Caribou for my
morning cup of life-instilling deliciousness. This morning, however, I woke up at
6:45. This was quickly followed by a creative – and impressive, if I do say so,
myself – chorus of curse words as I pulled on clothes and quickly ran a
toothbrush haphazardly across my teeth.
Hair
be damned.
No
coffee for me.
I
rushed to get to the hospital on time. My daily appointment is at 7:30. I made
it there at precisely 7:31. Not bad for a caffeine-deficient corpse on wheels!
I undressed, put on the lovely pink smock, and lay down on the table – all
prepared to get it done so I could be on my not-so-merry way.
The
technician took one look at me on the table and said, “Ooohh…wow. Has the
doctor seen this?”
Over
the weekend, I had begun to peel. The spot directly over my collarbone is
especially raw and ugly. I am also peeling in my armpit and the skin under my
armpit is way too close to black for my comfort. Though I have met some incredibly beautiful
women in my lifetime with brown or black skin, it’s not really normal for a pasty white girl like me to
have black skin. Honestly, it’s kind of freaking me out a bit,
The
radiation technician immediately went to get the doctor, who came in, leaned
over me and whispered, “Oh, dear.” Not exactly what you want to hear from your cancer doctor. He went on to say that
there would be no radiation for me today. In addition, he was giving me
tomorrow off, as well. Apparently my skin needs time to heal before we continue
with the radiation treatment.
So
that thing I said about knowing, at least, that my treatment would be over next
Tuesday? Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen. I am not getting a total reprieve from
radiation – simply a break. The two days I am missing will be tagged onto the
end. That means, as it stands, I will complete radiation on December 30th.
Considering the current condition of my skin (raw, peeling, black, and
incredibly painful), it is entirely possible that I will need an additional
“break” or two before I am done. Any more than one additional day will push me
into 2017.
This
really means nothing, except that it means everything. It is purely symbolic
that I want to complete radiation in 2016. Realistically, I know that I will
never be done with cancer. Or rather, cancer will never be done with me. I will
be followed by my oncologist for the next ten years, at least. And even beyond
that, there will always be the lingering “what ifs.” What if that twinge in my shoulder is cancer? What if that ache in my
hip is cancer? What if the normal, everyday aches and pains of aging are
neither normal nor everyday for me?
What
if…what if…
I
will live with the “what ifs” for years to come, but there is something
significant to me about closing the book on 2016. My symptoms started in January,
I was diagnosed in March, started chemo in April, had surgery in September, and
finished radiation in December. One year of my life gone. One entire year,
but only one year. 2016 sucked like
no other year before it, but it will soon be over and done. The worst of my
treatment complete.
Or
maybe not.
Silver Lining: I seem to have
forgotten with my last few posts the “silver lining” I promised to always look
for at the beginning of this whole mess. So today’s silver lining? I ate
Campbell’s chicken and stars for lunch today. It’s my go-to “sick and
depressed” meal…and it was unusually comforting and delicious.
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