On Tuesday, December 14th I underwent my last radiation treatment. Since October, I've had 34 radiation treatments. The first 26 were regular radiation zaps, aimed at the entire breast and armpit. The last eight were 'boosts'; radiation treatments targeting my scar and the place where the tumor was located. I feel great - I have some mild irritation and continue to have pain in the breast from the radiation. But compared to chemotherapy, radiation was extremely tolerable. I'm happy to be done so that I can move on with my life.
The last nine months have been scary, introspective and downright depressing at times. Here is what I've experienced since finding the lump in February:
- Four surgeries (excisional biopsy, lumpectomy with sentinel node biopsy, port placement and removal).
- One month of fertility preservation treatment. This included daily shots, ultrasounds, pills and an outpatient surgical procedure to retrieve the eggs.
- Six rounds of chemotherapy. I was given Adriamycin, Taxotere and Cytoxin every three weeks in one big chemo cocktail.
- 34 zaps of radiation
- Countless scans...ultrasound of the breast, ultrasound of the thyroid, a breast MRI, MUGA, chest x-ray, CT scan of the lungs, venogram, ultrasound of the arm.
- Too many IVs and blood draws to count.
Things could have been worse; I am lucky. I had Stage I cancer with an excellent prognosis. But I have to be vigilant about everything from now on. I had a highly estrogen receptive tumor that was fast growing and dividing. There is no guarantee it won't come back, but I am determined to do everything I can to never go through this again. I am also determined to educate women my age about self breast exams and warning signs.
So what's next? Healing - mentally and physically. I have to wait six weeks before I have a mammogram and blood work to determine if the cancer is really gone. I am optimistic I will get a clean bill of health in February.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Radiation Game
Radiation is a piece of cake! It is the complete opposite of chemotherapy. When I was going through chemo, everyday was a struggle. It was hard to get out of bed, eat, sleep, concentrate...even smiling was tough some days. I was so tired and depressed. It felt like the life had been sucked out of me. Its been over eight weeks since my last infusion. During those eight weeks, I've had my port, Phyllis, removed and I've undergone 26 radiation treatments. None of those have come close the hell that is chemotherapy.
So that leads me back to my first sentence: Radiation is a piece of cake. While that may sound a little flippant, that's the point. Chemo and radiation are so different, yet so similar. While chemotherapy was physically torturous, radiation is mentally grueling. Radiation is everyday. I have my treatments at a hospital. On the door to the radiation center at Alexandria Hospital, it says "Cancer Center". So every day, for the last five weeks, I've gone to an office at 8:00 am that says "Center Center". Do you think that's easy? Not at all. While the drive there is uneventful, the 15 minutes I am at the Cancer Center is the worst 15 minutes of the day. Its not because the treatment hurts (because it doesn't). Its because everyday, I am reminded that I have cancer. I am reminded that there are cells in my body that want to kill me. I'm reminded that in a way, I'm on borrowed time. If this was 20 years ago, I probably wouldn't have the good prognosis I have today. That's a pretty awful thing to deal with emotionally.
When I get to the Cancer Center each morning, the whole 15 minutes is very routine. I scan my badge at the door so they know I'm there. I walk into the center, past the front desk and into the women's changing room. I take off my clothes, from the waist up, put on a gown and wait in a changing room with other women with breast cancer. None of us have hair - we're a mix of wigs, hats and scarves. We are of all ages - two women who have treatment with me are in their 50's, another women is in her 70's and another woman is a year younger than I am. We are so different in age, race, occupation and economics. But we are all the same. For the 10 minutes I see these women each morning, we are like an old knitting circle....gabbing away about this ache, that drug, this scan and that doctor. I feel like these women are my sisters.
Each woman is called back based on her appointment time. Even if you get there early, you may need to wait for your designated time slot. This is all computerized so each appointment time is based on how long your treatment is. My radiation treatments are fast - less than 2 minutes each day so I am one of the lucky ones who can often get 'squeezed in' when I need to get out of there and to work quickly. Once called back, I have to verify my name and DOB with the radiation tech so I get the right treatment. Then the gown comes off, I lay on the table and they match up the five tattoos on my chest with the radiation machine. This takes about another minute. Then the techs leave the room, I told my breath four times and I'm done. The machine makes a loud buzzing noise and that's it - its over. No burning, no pain.
Once treatment is over, I have to apply cream to the treated area. I do this four times a day and put a heavier cream on it at night. Around treatment #15, I started to get pink and a little sore. Now, at treatment #26, I'm burned, have pain and have difficulty wearing anything fitted around my chest.
The last eight radiation treatments are called "boosts". These treatments target the scar on my breast from the lumpectomy and target any remaining cells around the 'margin' where my tumor was located. These treatments are even shorter than the previous radiation treatments. The entire session takes less than one minute. So while radiation has been physically easier than chemotherapy, mentally its been a challenge.
So that leads me back to my first sentence: Radiation is a piece of cake. While that may sound a little flippant, that's the point. Chemo and radiation are so different, yet so similar. While chemotherapy was physically torturous, radiation is mentally grueling. Radiation is everyday. I have my treatments at a hospital. On the door to the radiation center at Alexandria Hospital, it says "Cancer Center". So every day, for the last five weeks, I've gone to an office at 8:00 am that says "Center Center". Do you think that's easy? Not at all. While the drive there is uneventful, the 15 minutes I am at the Cancer Center is the worst 15 minutes of the day. Its not because the treatment hurts (because it doesn't). Its because everyday, I am reminded that I have cancer. I am reminded that there are cells in my body that want to kill me. I'm reminded that in a way, I'm on borrowed time. If this was 20 years ago, I probably wouldn't have the good prognosis I have today. That's a pretty awful thing to deal with emotionally.
When I get to the Cancer Center each morning, the whole 15 minutes is very routine. I scan my badge at the door so they know I'm there. I walk into the center, past the front desk and into the women's changing room. I take off my clothes, from the waist up, put on a gown and wait in a changing room with other women with breast cancer. None of us have hair - we're a mix of wigs, hats and scarves. We are of all ages - two women who have treatment with me are in their 50's, another women is in her 70's and another woman is a year younger than I am. We are so different in age, race, occupation and economics. But we are all the same. For the 10 minutes I see these women each morning, we are like an old knitting circle....gabbing away about this ache, that drug, this scan and that doctor. I feel like these women are my sisters.
Each woman is called back based on her appointment time. Even if you get there early, you may need to wait for your designated time slot. This is all computerized so each appointment time is based on how long your treatment is. My radiation treatments are fast - less than 2 minutes each day so I am one of the lucky ones who can often get 'squeezed in' when I need to get out of there and to work quickly. Once called back, I have to verify my name and DOB with the radiation tech so I get the right treatment. Then the gown comes off, I lay on the table and they match up the five tattoos on my chest with the radiation machine. This takes about another minute. Then the techs leave the room, I told my breath four times and I'm done. The machine makes a loud buzzing noise and that's it - its over. No burning, no pain.
Once treatment is over, I have to apply cream to the treated area. I do this four times a day and put a heavier cream on it at night. Around treatment #15, I started to get pink and a little sore. Now, at treatment #26, I'm burned, have pain and have difficulty wearing anything fitted around my chest.
The last eight radiation treatments are called "boosts". These treatments target the scar on my breast from the lumpectomy and target any remaining cells around the 'margin' where my tumor was located. These treatments are even shorter than the previous radiation treatments. The entire session takes less than one minute. So while radiation has been physically easier than chemotherapy, mentally its been a challenge.
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