phase 3: radiation.
good day my dear readers, it’s been a minute (er…. a month) and an update is absolutely warranted!
the other day i posted on my instastory to “not let perfect hold you back from good enough” — this was with reference to my goal of going to yoga every day of radiation (i’ve been 7 of 10 days) — but i have a history of letting this happen when it comes to a lot of things and writing is definitely one of them. so, as much as i want to say “tough shit” that i haven’t updated, i may not have had the time and space that i have to prioritize me, my health, and Audj without your care and investment and the least i can do is give an update.
back in july, i wrote:
the next steps are:
maintain chemo’s effect of ovarian suppression via shot beginning this week
double mastectomy with phase 1 of reconstruction will occur in the next 30 days
approx. 3 weeks later, chart course of long-term ovarian suppression (shots, oopherectomy or hysterectomy) & begin hormone therapy
approx. 4-6 weeks (after surgery) radiation of right breast/armpit (5-6 week duration, daily)
then, if safe: radiation of the pelvic spot
then, phase 2 and beyond of reconstruction
the only thing that has changed with this (besides that i did not begin reconstruction at the time of my mastectomy) is that we haven’t quite gotten to the ovarian suppression as i outlined. i have had one injection of zoladex, which is a lasts-3-months solution to hormone control (if you recall, my cancer is hormone-receptor positive, which means the estrogen and progesterone released into my body through my reproductive system act like fuel to the fire). i will have another of these mid-october, at which time i will also have blood tests done to determine what affect this has had. i will not be able to start on the hormone therapy until certain lab tests positively confirm i am menopausal (the blood tests done in July were inconclusive).
3d conformal radiation to my right chest wall and upper arm area began on 9/23. i go every day, monday through friday for a total of 30 sessions, which will conclude on 11/1. so far, radiation is easy. it is a drastically different process than chemo or any other doctor appointment i’ve had before. they don’t take vitals, or ask about allergies or current medications, no blood draws. i don’t even have to check in, i just walk through the lobby of patients who are still consulting or planning their treatment (none of whom have been under the age of 50, if i had to guess) to the exam rooms and treatment areas, change into a gown, put my stuff in a locker, and wait until the tech comes to get me. they ask my birthdate and what area of the body is being treated and then i lay down on the table, take my arms out of my gown and rest back into a mold cradling my head and supporting my arms which are over my head, left hand holding right wrist.
there is a sheet on the table and a cross-shaped cutout in the drop ceiling above me, with a projector that is displaying a ruler onto my chest. they put a bolster under my knees and a band around my feet and on either side of me stand two techs who communicate to each other in numbers and directions: “1 roll right”, “97.5”, “chin extension 9”, while tugging on the sheet to move my body into the appropriate position for the radiation field. simultaneously the table is being adjusted up and down, sometimes pumping the buttons as if they are topping off a gas tank and want to land on a specific dollar and cents amount worth of gasoline. once adjusted, they say “here we go” and leave the room. shortly after, a box of green light shifts on the reflective screen above me and starts buzzing — dose begins. the buzzing pauses while the shape of the box changes, then the buzzing stops for the machine to rotate to my right so the beam (the green box) can hit me from a new angle, then it rotates back, past the center starting point, and to the left. i can see it in my peripheral vision if my eyes are open but i can’t move my head, only my eyes.
every other day they place plastic wrap on my chest and then a metal bolus which apparently helps them manipulate how the dose hits the skin. they’ve explained to me that this is evident on their monitors but the concept isn’t something i completely understand without that visual, so i just trust they know their stuff. each thursday i see Dr. Nisi, the radiation oncologist, but since there isn’t a whole laundry list of side effects to monitor like during chemo, this is a short visit. on doctor visit day, they DO take my weight and blood pressure.
radiation side effects are fatigue and skin irritation, which could be as simple as red and dry or severe as a really, really shitty sunburn. the skin effects, i’ve been told, start to show around week 3 and can take quite a bit of time after it is completed to heal. today, end of week 2, i notice quite a bit of pink-ness to the treated area and i assume it is beginning. i am rather tired, but i’ve also not been sleeping great at night. the unisom i took over the summer doesn’t drift me off to sleep like it used to but my pre-bed routine has mainly consisted of 2+ episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. i’ll work on that now that i’ve finished the series to date and see if a full nights sleep makes a difference in my daytime energy levels and need for a nap. Tassie and i walk at least a mile every day and i’ve switched yoga studios to One Yoga, which has a wider variety of class offerings that are helping me to stay active without being overkill… so as tired as i am, i do have it in me to be active which i believe helps me to better tolerate all the things.
Audrey is cruising through second grade so far, lost both front teeth, passed Level 1 of ninja training like a damn pro, and started in division 4, which includes competitions, in her cheer class. she is one of the youngest and certainly the smallest, so she is a “flyer” and i can see that this role gives her a lot of pride and thrill. fall conferences will be next week already and we’ll have a school photo soon. this is the first year she hasn’t made halloween costume plans months in advance, so we’ll see what she decides for that.
all in all, things are going well. i’ve gotten quite used to living in the present moment and one day at a time. i am more clear than ever on the things that are important to me, how i want to spend my time and energy, and that who i am, where i find my identity, comes from a place way, way deeper than my sick body. as i near the end of this original treatment plan, i am finding myself more ready and sometimes excited to think about a longer term future than i have been. my hair has grown enough that strangers just think it’s a hair cut, not hair growth.
i’ll work on writing more consistently in the coming weeks and going forward, but for now you all know the gist of what’s happening in my world. have a lovely weekend!
xo,
H
p.s. - additional post likely to come regarding breast cancer awareness month but for now, i encourage anyone who desires to donate their time and resources to this cause to consider Metavivor — 100% of donations go to Stage IV research — which is where the true life saving comes in: www.metavivor.org
