Today was Lucky 13 of 16 radiations. Almost done!
I'm not sure if my skin would have held up if I had the usual 30-36 radiation treatments. Yesterday, I was pinked out. Today was the same. It hurts like a sunburn (when was the last time your ta-ta or armpit was sunburned?).
Fatigue is starting, though. Not as bad as the chemo fatigue, which hit like a ton of bricks and hit quickly. This is more gradual. I've also noticed that the chemo fog is back . . . trouble thinking or finding words, trouble remembering! Part of fatigue, tho, is the thinking and find words issue.
In fact, two nights ago, I forgot that one of the burners on our ceramic cooktop had been on. Yeah, you got it - burns. Second degree burns on two fingers. Vic had turned off the burner and removed the pot of pasta for to drain it. The sauce was still cooking; I took off the lid from that pot, and placed it upside down on the burner. Didn't want to get the burner dirty! After stirring the sauce, I went to pick up the lid, putting my hand underneath the lid to grab the top knob. My hand was directly on the burner. It took quite a while of soaking the hand in cool water to get the pain down enough to bandage. Oxycodon was my friend Tuesday night!
It's almost the weekend . . . thank goodness. I need some rest and will hope that the fatigue lessens. But what I've been told by the doc, I keep cooking after radiation stops . . .and the fatigue and sunburning will continue.
Peace and blessings to you!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Cancelled
I lost my cell phone this morning, so didn't receive the phone calls from the radiation staff - notifying me that the machine was broken. Now, that sort of scares me, to think this humongous piece of equipment is broken. Did it fall? Okay, that's MY fear. I won't project it forward. lol
Those thoughts do cross my mind as I'm laying on the table. The machine is large and I imagine it weighs a significant amount. As the big radiation part moves over me, I pray that the weight on the other side stays in place. Just silly I know.
Anyway, no radiation today. My radiation end date is now February 3rd. No missing those 16 zaps. Today would have been No. 11.
Once the radiation therapists left the room last Friday, tears came out of no where. I couldn't stop them, nor could I wipe them -- had to lay still until the radiation ended. It always amazes me when the tears seemingly come out of the blue.
When the sweet therapist came back into the room, she asked if I was okay. I had to acknowledge that the tears just come when I allow myself to think about all that my body has gone through -- surgery, chemo and now radiation. Why do we not give ourselves permission to be sad or angry? Angry at the cancer beast?
As one lady said, who happens to be on her 2nd round of breast cancer, "they can poison us, they can cut us, and they can burn us, but we still survive". Amen!
During the first part of this triathlon - surgery - I felt like I was a breast walking on two legs. That didn't occur during chemo since no one looked or poked or cut the breast. Now with radiation, this feeling is back. Radiation people don't cut, but they poke, write on it and look at it for any side effects. Just flop that baby out for all the world to see.
Listening to Josh Groban's, You're Still You, on the way to radiation, may have started the tears. I have so many mixed emotions about the end of this phase of my treatment. I'm excited, happy, nervous and scared. I am so willing to have a few more rads or a few more chemo treatments. I want the assurance that the beast and the beast's mini-cells are gone - gone 100%.
So back to Joshy. This was the last thing I heard before walking to the building on Friday. It was in my brain, entered my heart and waited until I was relaxed to break through and allow the tears to flow.
You walk past me
I can feel your pain
Time changes everything
One truth always stays the same
You're still you
After all, you're still you
I'm still me. This beast didn't destroy my core beliefs, it didn't destroy who I am. I'm still me!
A loving, darn funny, creative and intelligent creature of God.
Those thoughts do cross my mind as I'm laying on the table. The machine is large and I imagine it weighs a significant amount. As the big radiation part moves over me, I pray that the weight on the other side stays in place. Just silly I know.
Anyway, no radiation today. My radiation end date is now February 3rd. No missing those 16 zaps. Today would have been No. 11.
Once the radiation therapists left the room last Friday, tears came out of no where. I couldn't stop them, nor could I wipe them -- had to lay still until the radiation ended. It always amazes me when the tears seemingly come out of the blue.
When the sweet therapist came back into the room, she asked if I was okay. I had to acknowledge that the tears just come when I allow myself to think about all that my body has gone through -- surgery, chemo and now radiation. Why do we not give ourselves permission to be sad or angry? Angry at the cancer beast?
As one lady said, who happens to be on her 2nd round of breast cancer, "they can poison us, they can cut us, and they can burn us, but we still survive". Amen!
During the first part of this triathlon - surgery - I felt like I was a breast walking on two legs. That didn't occur during chemo since no one looked or poked or cut the breast. Now with radiation, this feeling is back. Radiation people don't cut, but they poke, write on it and look at it for any side effects. Just flop that baby out for all the world to see.
Listening to Josh Groban's, You're Still You, on the way to radiation, may have started the tears. I have so many mixed emotions about the end of this phase of my treatment. I'm excited, happy, nervous and scared. I am so willing to have a few more rads or a few more chemo treatments. I want the assurance that the beast and the beast's mini-cells are gone - gone 100%.
So back to Joshy. This was the last thing I heard before walking to the building on Friday. It was in my brain, entered my heart and waited until I was relaxed to break through and allow the tears to flow.
I can feel your pain
Time changes everything
One truth always stays the same
You're still you
After all, you're still you
I'm still me. This beast didn't destroy my core beliefs, it didn't destroy who I am. I'm still me!
A loving, darn funny, creative and intelligent creature of God.
enjoy!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
7 of 16
Almost half way there! Radiation treatment itself is easy and piece of cake.
I am experiencing some sensitivity on the side but do not see any redness. Maybe some brown . . . you think I can get a tan? Whoo hoo!! For those who don't know me personally, I do not tan, even after going to tanning salons.
The skin on the breast is red and it shows some swelling. I met with the nurse and one of the radiation docs after treatment today. They didn't think the redness or swelling was from the radiation treatment, "as it is too soon". Can't believe that the doc did the "must be an infection" routine and prescribed antibiotics. Seven days worth for 35 freaking dollars! Obviously not a generic antibiotic.
I will meet with my regular Rad Onc on Thursday, so we'll see what his opinion is.
Thanks for checking in! I hope things are going well for you!
~Renee
I am experiencing some sensitivity on the side but do not see any redness. Maybe some brown . . . you think I can get a tan? Whoo hoo!! For those who don't know me personally, I do not tan, even after going to tanning salons.
The skin on the breast is red and it shows some swelling. I met with the nurse and one of the radiation docs after treatment today. They didn't think the redness or swelling was from the radiation treatment, "as it is too soon". Can't believe that the doc did the "must be an infection" routine and prescribed antibiotics. Seven days worth for 35 freaking dollars! Obviously not a generic antibiotic.
I will meet with my regular Rad Onc on Thursday, so we'll see what his opinion is.
Thanks for checking in! I hope things are going well for you!
~Renee
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