5 days a week. Six weeks.
Though the initial parts of each of these new steps are always overwhelming, it's actually pretty amazing how it all works. I've made the radiation therapists promise me that they'll let me record the process at least once before I'm done. (which of course, I will share here).
Here's the thing about radiation. It works to kill remaining Cancer cells that may have not been killed by chemo or surgery. YES- radiation exposure does create a risk for secondary Cancers down the line but the risks are, on average, less than 1%. YES- radiation is a GOOD thing for my left chest, under my left arm, the left side of my sternum (breast bone). BUT radiation exposure to my organs (heart, lungs, esophagus, etc.) that may hang out in the same area WILL cause scar tissue that for working organs that I need for hopefully a very long while is NOT good and puts me at risk for heart and lung disease down the line.
SO.. the "set up" process was extensive. It included CT scans of my whole midsection to insure that my radiation oncologist could create a treatment plan that avoided those lovely, fleshy, well functioning internal organs but blasted the crap out of the areas that may have lingering Cancer cells hiding out. Part of the process was providing me with these tiny little tattoos (and I do mean tiny) that help the therapists line me up with the machine each time. When they told me I would be tattooed...I wasn't hesitant but had envisioned these big 'ole things and had requested that they at least try to make them into some type of discernible shape: a heart? a star maybe? But alas, they are so small that I can barely make them out. There is a place in the area that will remove these tiny marks for Cancer survivors for free when radiation is complete. But in truth, they are like so many of the other accumulated marks on my body from this process. They are proof that what has tried to kill me was unsuccessful. I think I'll keep 'em.
Now, when I go to treatment, I disrobe from the waist up and lay on this table. My head and neck lay on this pillow that they molded just for me during set up. My arms lay above my head and I hold onto these handles (really just to keep my hands busy and keep me from moving more than anything). The therapists move and tweak my body position to be in line with this incredible list of criteria that has to be right to make sure the beams hit the right spots. They leave me and lock me into this room built specifically for folks like me with lead walls, cameras everywhere and a painted ceiling that looks like the most perfect spring sky (a nice touch I think).
One of the coolest parts of this whole thing is this little box they tape to my stomach each time. Before each time the machine turns on to treat the designated areas, the therapists pipe into the room and tell me to take a deep breathe. When I take a deep breath, my lungs fill with air which actually squeezes my heart deeper (like deeper down toward my waist) into my chest. It's only when I am holding my breath that the machine treats the area. IF for some reason, I can't hold my breath or have to cough or something, the box moves on my stomach (obviously). The MACHINE DETECTS the movement of the box and shuts itself off to avoid hitting my heart and lungs. WHAT?? Good grief...there are so many smart people out there but I would love meet the the girl (it had to have been a girl dontcha think?) who came up with this and give her a hug or a high five.
My treatments last about 8 minutes on average. It takes me 30 minutes to get there and depending on traffic about 60 minutes to get back....but that 8 minutes....I suppose are worth the trip.
When I have asked about the best way to describe the damage done to the body with radiation exposure, the best way I can think to sum it up is that it's like a sunburn that goes so very deep and causes so much damage to the cells that the parts of the body exposed never fully recover. Effects during treatment are cumulative meaning that the first week, I felt nothing; no side effects, no skin changes, no fatigue. Now, in my fourth week, my skin is bright red, the parts of my skin that I can still feel (remember I lost almost all sensation as a result of the mastectomy) are raw and tender all the time and I am exhausted....all the time. I can't seem to get enough sleep but when I do, the mornings are good, afternoons are ok...but if I am still moving by 8 pm...it is caffeine induced movement only. By the end of my 6th week, there will likely be blisters and the overall burns will be at their worst. The tissue underneath is damaged with each treatment. If you think about how leathery the skin of habitual sun worshipers looks, that's how the tissue under my skin is becoming. It will lose much of it's elasticity, blood vessels and nerves will become encased in scar tissue and though anything is possible, it is unlikely that the damage is anything but permanent.
Radiation makes reconstruction a bit more difficult for the reasons stated above. Soft, squishy, stretchy skin is ideal for reconstruction. My left side will have none of that. BUT that's what I love about my plastic surgeon, Dr. Julie Holding. She is unphased by this. She balks at the pictures I have shown her of botched reconstruction and scolds me for looking at anything but HER work. For her confidence, cockiness, self-assurance.....whatever you want to call it, I am more grateful than I can express. I have MANY surgeries in my future, most of which will be to fix, tweak, perfect her work until I am satisfied with the result. In her words, we aren't done until I am pleased with the finished product. That could mean months or even years. And that doesn't matter to me at all. I will address reconstruction in a later post. My first major surgery is scheduled for February 27th.
Landen has struggled with radiation. I have brought both of the boys to treatments with me, shown them the room, the machine, introduced them to the staff. Logan seems to understand, in his way, that this is a necessary step to keep the Cancer from coming back. But Landen can't seem to reconcile the fact that I am getting better....when in fact I have MORE appts than ever. He has asked me several times, "Mom, are you sure you're not dying?" And we have long talks, mainly at bedtime, during which I assure him that I am NOT dying and that the hard parts of this are certainly hard, but that they won't last forever. When asked what he wants to be sure we pray about each night, he ALWAYS wants to ask God to heal me. So we pray that prayer every night and every time, he places his little hand on my head (still pretty much bald these days) as if he does understand that our human hands can be used at tools for healing when Jesus chooses to use them as such.
We are all dealing with this. In the best way we know how. But I have my moments, even days when I struggle with frustration and anger inside me. I want my life back! I want a life that doesn't revolve around Cancer! I want the damage to be undone. I want my hair back. I want my energy back. I want to be able to fall asleep and stay asleep without the use of medication. I my kids to worry about NORMAL things. KID things. Not the things of Cancer and death.
I am sitting here receiving one of many Herceptin treatments (again to keep the HER-2 proteins from producing Cancer cells) I will receive FOREVER. I hear the beeping in the background. The IV tubing that has bubbles in it. The beeps that mean the bag is empty and it's time for the nurse to hang another. I say my name and date of birth a thousand times each time I come her to make sure I get the right treatment intended for me. As the herceptin goes in, the energy I had when I arrived gradually goes out. And when I leave here, I am off to the Radiation Oncology location for another treatment.
I hear the noises in my sleep. I run through the process again and again in my dreams. And I'm tired. I am so tired of being so very tired.
And yet Jesus is faithful to bring a relevant component of His hand written love letter to me to my mind every single time I feel this way:
1 Peter 1:3-9
Praise to God for a Living Hope
3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
He is a good Father. And even in the midst of the pain and the trials; even when I am angry and frustrated; even when I can't or won't see the light at the end of the tunnel, He loves me more than I can possible know.
Until next time.........
