Radiation for Fun and Profit...

Radiation... Yesterday, we met with the radiation oncologist. I found myself ill-at-ease even walking into the building and at the thought of radiation, even knowing nothing but talking would happen today. They were running behind, so my mom and I had much time to grow more anxious or soothe ourselves in. I did some of both. I struggle to know what I want to say about this meeting. The nurse was lovely. Listening to her recount the clinical story of my cancer was not. Somehow, hearing it all again, even (especially?) stated in such a calm and matter-of-fact manner was horrifying. It made me realize how much I have managed to put out of my head. I know they need to be accurate, but I'd bet good money it disrupts the healing process to have your nose rubbed in it all over again. When we finally got to see the doctor, I liked her instinctively. A comfortable woman in her fifties with a relaxed manner, She was the easiest of my three doctors so far to talk to. Again, she reviewed my story. She asked me, "the involvement of the lymph nodes in the neck, you understand the significance of that?" I found myself nodding quickly, jumping in before she could tell me again what I know and want not to. "Stage 4" those dreaded words. And I can hear her voice and those words "the significance.". How to explain that I have chosen very consciously to give I no significance whatsoever. The best response comes to me only now. "Yes, I understand, and I've decided to live anyway!" After examining me, that dreaded palpitating of the lymph nodes, the feeling that my life is held in the tips of those gently probing fingers. The silent prayer, "please find nothing, nothing nothing." She said nothing. After I was dressed, she came back and sat down looking grave. (I had to stop writing then, finding myself unwilling to relive this experience, even for you, my loving friends.) Here is the upshot: the radiation to my neck will destroy 10% of my lung capacity. Because of my asthma and the pneumonitis after chemo, there is a chance I will feel the impact of this. There is also a 30% chance of developing thyroid problems years from now. But the radiation increases the odds of survival significantly, so we go ahead. On Tuesday, I will have another pet scan. If they see cancer in the neck lymph nodes, they will increase the dose of radiation. God Forbid. If not, it's more good news. So, another test, another opportunity to battle back the terror demons. On the same day, they create a mold of my torso to immobilize me during treatment and place tiny marking tattoos to guide the rays. I never did see myself as a tattoo candidate, but there you go! Then there is a trial run visit and I get 6 weeks of radiation 5 days a week, longer if the pet scan looks bad. Because there was cancer in the skin, they will concentrate more radiation there, and I am likely to blister as well as burn. Looks like it'll be back to the Percocet. And then there is the fatigue. Yea! So, being honest, I am dreading this. And, I am working hard to enjoy life anyway. I feel really great. Today, I worked a 7-hour day plus an hour of treatment, walked the dog twice, did a cardio workout and even blogged. And all that after a really lousy night's sleep. Not too bad. Steve should be home soon from 4 days in Houston and I am looking forward to seeing him. Thanks, Mom, for coming down while he was away. Nice to have company, even if I can do for myself now. More on radiation as it rolls out. Wish me luck!