Two radiation treatments down...thirty to go. You know what's hardest to believe in all this? That I have to go every damn day. You know how you wake up and remember you have to go to the dentist? or realize that this is the week you need to have your eyes examined? Or crud, those times that you have to go see your gyn? have a mammogram? one of those things men have to do? You finish and you think, "geez, glad that's over."
I thought that yesterday. And today. And I can't believe I still have to do it tomorrow...and Monday...and on and on.
On the good side, radiation, if they're really doing it, so far feels like nothing. One more buzzing, rotating, weird scanning device, but no pain, no discomfort. It really is hard to belive something is happening. When I mentioned that to one of my technicians, she said that I'd notice a real difference by about the 10th treatment — fatigue and discomfort in the imaging area.
Speaking of the imaging area...think of giving a two year old three different color Sharpies and letting them loose on your chest. I'm pretty sure I won't be wearing a tank top out in public anytime soon. They're basically radiating a 8" x 5" recatangle-like area...wish I could say that's all breast, but it doesn't seem to be. They're very cautious and take great care to get all breast tissue and the chest wall.
Another new develpment: a fair amount of fuzzy white hair sprouting from my head in a roughly mohawk-like pattern. I'm just waiting for it to get long enough to dye!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
On spa treatments and beauty
Hi all — this has got to be quick because I'm working, but I have been getting lots of inquiries on how things went this week, so I thought I'd do a post.
Turns out that on Tuesday what they did was make a "cradle" for me to lie in at every radiation treatment. The room was freezing, I was mostly bare and then they made me recline on a table that had a big plastic bag filled with hard, uncomfortable pieces of foam. They assured me that when the put a special liquid into the bag that the foam would get soft and warm — spalike is the term they used — and mold to my form. And it did! But spalike...what kind of spas do these folks go to?
Next they drew all over my torso with sharpies and then did a CT scan. Do they offer this at the Greenbriar? Seaweed, mud, and CT scans?
Anyway, it wasn't really bad and now I've got nearly a full body mold of the back of my body if anyone can think of a good use for it.
Funny thing is, similar to any good spa concerned with branding, they did give me a nice canvas bag to keep as my own and bring everyday during treatment. Emblazoned on the side: Duke University Medical Center Ratiation Oncology. That's a keeper.
(For the curious, it's to store your clothes etc. every day while you go in for the actual radiation.)
Finally, as I was leaving the hospital, feeling pretty relaxed after my spa treatment, and pretty cocky strutting my bald head around, a had an interesting encounter.
A woman did a double-take when she went past me, hesitated and then approached me. I thought perhaps we'd met somewhere before. No dice. She said, "Excuse me, have you been to our 'Look Good, Feel Good' class? You might want to try it?"
Well, at first, I thought 'how nice...reaching out to an obvious cancer victim with little extras. Just more of the whole spa-theme." Then I thought — "Hell, I'm on the upswing. I thought I was looking pretty good for a lashless, bald 40-something, cancer patient." I guess not, eh?
Okay, I know I'm over thinking it. But my primary thought as she walked away was, "no way lady. I already feel good...and I'm on my way back to looking good. Nobody has to show me how to paint on eyebrows." (damn...wish I could use exclamation marks.)
Turns out that on Tuesday what they did was make a "cradle" for me to lie in at every radiation treatment. The room was freezing, I was mostly bare and then they made me recline on a table that had a big plastic bag filled with hard, uncomfortable pieces of foam. They assured me that when the put a special liquid into the bag that the foam would get soft and warm — spalike is the term they used — and mold to my form. And it did! But spalike...what kind of spas do these folks go to?
Next they drew all over my torso with sharpies and then did a CT scan. Do they offer this at the Greenbriar? Seaweed, mud, and CT scans?
Anyway, it wasn't really bad and now I've got nearly a full body mold of the back of my body if anyone can think of a good use for it.
Funny thing is, similar to any good spa concerned with branding, they did give me a nice canvas bag to keep as my own and bring everyday during treatment. Emblazoned on the side: Duke University Medical Center Ratiation Oncology. That's a keeper.
(For the curious, it's to store your clothes etc. every day while you go in for the actual radiation.)
Finally, as I was leaving the hospital, feeling pretty relaxed after my spa treatment, and pretty cocky strutting my bald head around, a had an interesting encounter.
A woman did a double-take when she went past me, hesitated and then approached me. I thought perhaps we'd met somewhere before. No dice. She said, "Excuse me, have you been to our 'Look Good, Feel Good' class? You might want to try it?"
Well, at first, I thought 'how nice...reaching out to an obvious cancer victim with little extras. Just more of the whole spa-theme." Then I thought — "Hell, I'm on the upswing. I thought I was looking pretty good for a lashless, bald 40-something, cancer patient." I guess not, eh?
Okay, I know I'm over thinking it. But my primary thought as she walked away was, "no way lady. I already feel good...and I'm on my way back to looking good. Nobody has to show me how to paint on eyebrows." (damn...wish I could use exclamation marks.)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Energy: variations on a theme
As it turns out, blogging is harder than it looks. Like laundry, grocery shopping, and "swiffering" — a new verb a la Googling — there's always more to do and the longer you let it go, the harder it is to get back to.
General update is that every day my energy level increases — physical and mental. Tasks that seemed monumental like sorting through and paying my hospital bills or wading through and filing paperwork on my desk are now complete. Fueled by coffee and supported by the warmth and generosity of Sally and Katherine, I not only made it through but also enjoyed a long meeting with a new client. Chemo may have killed a few brain cells, but what's left is enjoying the stimulation!
Speaking of killing cells, today I go to the radiation oncologist for a CT/SIM — a sophisticated body mapping process that locks in exactly where the radiation beams will hit me. I'll fill you in later, but chances are I'll start my first of 32 radiation sessions next week.
Finally, all you folks that write emails and make phone calls in response to my blog...are you shy? or just blog-naive? Anybody ever going to post a comment? C'mon...let's get interactive.
General update is that every day my energy level increases — physical and mental. Tasks that seemed monumental like sorting through and paying my hospital bills or wading through and filing paperwork on my desk are now complete. Fueled by coffee and supported by the warmth and generosity of Sally and Katherine, I not only made it through but also enjoyed a long meeting with a new client. Chemo may have killed a few brain cells, but what's left is enjoying the stimulation!
Speaking of killing cells, today I go to the radiation oncologist for a CT/SIM — a sophisticated body mapping process that locks in exactly where the radiation beams will hit me. I'll fill you in later, but chances are I'll start my first of 32 radiation sessions next week.
Finally, all you folks that write emails and make phone calls in response to my blog...are you shy? or just blog-naive? Anybody ever going to post a comment? C'mon...let's get interactive.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Chemo Brain Lives!
Ummm...turns out, as Matt points out, there's no such thing as explanation marks. But don't you think there should be?
What would they look like, I wonder? Little mouths open? Wagging fingers? Whatever ... I'm pretty sure, they, like exclamation marks, are not allowed here. (You know, if that weren't evidence enough of chemo brain...I almost just typed "not aloud" instead of "not allowed."
Scary.
What would they look like, I wonder? Little mouths open? Wagging fingers? Whatever ... I'm pretty sure, they, like exclamation marks, are not allowed here. (You know, if that weren't evidence enough of chemo brain...I almost just typed "not aloud" instead of "not allowed."
Scary.
Queasy Does It
Hello happy readers. My friend and colleague Linda showed me how to do this so now I can go on ad nauseum about my life...which of late has been packed with nausea. You can check out Linda's blog and cute puppy at: http://www.peacelittlemonsterbeautygoddess.blogspot.com/
More later (I guess that's understood as it's the nature of blogs).
Here's something more...did you know that explanation marks are not allowed on here?
More later (I guess that's understood as it's the nature of blogs).
Here's something more...did you know that explanation marks are not allowed on here?
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