The end of Radiation

Radiation wrapped up at a perfect time -- two days before Thanksgiving!

During radiation, Elise brought ANOTHER DELICIOUS dinner.

It was a BBQ chicken skillet pizza with a cornbread crust. Yum!

To celebrate the end of radiation, I finally took what I called my radiation pass out of my purse.

When I arrived, every day, I passed it in front of a scanner that read my unique bar code and let them know that I had arrived. Pretty cool system, actually. Once I had scanned my card/pass, I donned a lovely hospital gown and waited in the Women's waiting area until I was called back. On a good day, I was in and out in 15 or 20 minutes. On a bad day, I could be there for almost an hour. On one really good day I was back in my car 10 minutes after I had left it for the parking valet!

During my last full week of radiation, the clip fell off of my pass. I had debated whether or not to request a new holder. I figured for the last few days I could get by with the old one.

It was a good feeling to take this out of my purse and know that I didn't have to make sure it found its way back for the next day.

I had Marc take a picture of the radiated area. For me, and to share. I apologize if you find it unpleasant. Just scroll on past it if you prefer.

For the first 23 days, the radiation targeted a more broad area. My entire left breast. While my skin started to look sunburnt, I was fortunate that it was no worse than that. It felt a bit dry, kind of papery, but that was it. This photo was taken a week after I had completed radiation and just over 2 weeks after the broad area radiation was done. By that time the redness had subsided and it was looking more like a weird suntan.

Under my left arm, one of the scars is visible in the photo. I had two incisions: one to remove the tumour, and one for the node biopsy. The last seven rounds of radiation target the area where the tumour had been, and that's why there's a red triangle shape in that area.

Its been about six weeks since I finished radiation, and that red triangle is now a lovely brown colour, and the brown that covered the larger area is now gone.

At the time radiation was done, I was the lucky recipient of flowers from my Mom and Dad, and sister and her family.

Aren't they beautiful?! They were delivered the day after I was done, which was the day before Thanksgiving. Beautiful fall colours, they made a gorgeous centerpiece for our Thanksgiving table.

Marc also sent flowers.

What a beautiful way to celebrate the end of radiation!

Over the Radiation Hump!

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel -- 18 down, 12 to go. Barring any cancelations, I will be done on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

I'm having to take an hour out of every day, and work around that hour between 10:30 and 11:30 every morning. But that's it. Oh, and remembering not to apply cream or lotion of any kind 4 hours prior, to the target area.

I can eat what I want and it tastes good -- tastes like it should! My head is clear -- no chemo fog. And of course, no nausea!

Now, there is the problem of the hot flashes. Those have lingered and I expect that to continue. I've been doing a bit of research and confirmed that yes, chemo can put you into menopause. It was getting close to that time anyway, I figure! And hot flashes can be worse when chemo is the trigger. I figure I'm somewhat in the middle as far as hot flashes go. I'm painfully aware of them, and they're still waking me several times a night. But my heart rate doesn't change, and I don't think my face gets flushed. (I keep forgetting to check in the mirror when one hits) I read of women who thought they were having a heart attack as their heart rate quickens with each occurence. So while they suck, they could still be worse!

And the kindness of family and friends never stops. I appreciate the kind words, cards, emails and never tire of hearing from everyone.

I was surprised by a package a couple of weeks ago. Marc was away and it was our wedding anniversary week -- he always seems to be away that week. So I thought at first it was from Marc. But upon opening the box, which contained a vase, cut flowers, and chocolates, I discovered it was from Pier, Nate and the bubs. So sweet, so beautiful, and so delicious!

Gorgeous!

Confessing here that no member of my family saw these fancy chocolates. I ate them ALL! And not even all at once. I paced myself and ate one or two a day, so I am guilty of not sharing, and hiding them. From the kids, the dog, and the husband. I'm not proud, but they were oh so good!

The following week, our neighbor Jane, who lives around the corner, surprised me with these. In lovely pink foil and with a pink bow. Beautiful and perfect for the season.

Radiation Week 1

Is almost done. Since I started on a Wednesday, for counting purposes, Tuesdays are the last day of my 'week'. And I am now in my regular time slot of 10:45 every morning, Monday to Friday.

I have yet to go straight to my appointment and back from home, so I can't say exactly how long it takes. But if I did, I'd leave home around 10:30. Today, I was on the table right on time -- 10:45 is when they called me back. And I was walking out to my car just past 11. Going straight home should take 10 minutes at the most at that time of day. So if the stars aligned, 45 minutes door to door to door. To be on the safe side, I allow 1 hour.

I think that's fabulous. Some people have to allow just that much in traveling time, sometimes each way, for every day of radiation. Hence the fatigue.

The radiation process at AMH runs like a well oiled machine. I have a card with a bar code, that I scan each time I come in. It let's the staff in the radiation area know that I'm here. I change into my two gowns, the first open to the back and the second, over that, open to the front, like a robe. Personally, I don't think the second is necessary since I only remove clothing from the waist up. Even if that first gown is flapping in the breeze as I make my way through the hallways, there's no show to be had. Different for the many gentlemen in for their prostates. I guess that's where the 2 gown idea came from. And why there is a women's waiting area and a men's waiting area.

Once I'm doubly gowned, I make my way to the women's waiting area. When it's my turn, I'm alerted by a page over the intercom system. Off to room 1, where's they're waiting to get me lined up.

I'm positioned on my back, knees bent, an ergonomic cushion for support, left arm slipped out of my gown, raised up into what is also a position specific to me. The device which holds my arm has different settings too.

I have no idea what the numbers they call out mean, but I know they're for properly positioning me to receive the correct radiation. A little wiggle and push here and there, and I'm good to go. I'm left alone and the machine starts humming.

There's also a display of numbers and settings on a monitor that's visible during the process. Red cross hairs illuminate the targeted area. First, from the left. After a minute or two -- and I promised Marc I'd try to remember to time this tomorrow -- the machine rotates over my head to send the second dose from the right.  Another minute or two, and it's done.

I had imagined it a bit differently, but the way it's done makes sense. Coming at it from the side minimizes the risk of damage to other parts. Like my lung. Or my heart. So from the side is good.

When I'm done, the technicians return to the room to help me up and out of there. Til the next day.

Don my clothes, make sure the gowns find their way to the laundry bin, and out the door. Pick up my car and continue on my way.

My third day of radiation was last Friday, and it was the first time I had a 10:45 appointment. It was also the first time there was anyone else in the women's waiting area with me.

An older women, with an accent I have yet to place. She first asked if I had had chemo. (pretty obvious) I told her yes. She said she only needed radiation, no chemo.

She asked me what stage. I told her 1. She said she was stage 0.

She asked if I had a lumpectomy. I answered yes, and she said she had also.

She told me about a month and a half had passed since her surgery and her scar was almost invisible. She described the location, a straight line just above her nipple. Left breast. (more breast cancer occurs on the left)

Then she showed me.

And she was right. It was almost invisible.

I wondered whether or not I was supposed to now show mine. I did tell her I had two scars not one. Located more like in my arm pit.

With the double gown thing, it would have been difficult to share my scars.

Then I heard my name over the intercom. "Mrs. Pelletier, come back please". So off I went.

Five weeks to go!

Chapter Next: Radiation

Starts tomorrow. Monday to Friday, for 6 weeks. I'll know more after tomorrow, but I figure it should take less than an hour each day.

Tomorrow and Thursday, my appointment is 8:45 a.m.. Friday forward, I will have a standing appointment at 10:45 a.m. The hospital is about 10 minutes away, especially at that time of day.

The most discussed side effect is fatigue, though it's not clear whether it is caused by the actual radiation, or rather the pace. The schedule. The having to do it every day. That's one theory.

Some people travel greater distances to receive treatment, and that can contribute to the fatigue. Having to fit in that extra time each day can be tough. Since my 'extra' time isn't as great, I'm hoping the fatigue won't be either.

I continue to be buoyed by the love and support of so many wonderful people, family and friends. Here and faraway. Wonderful hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. And cards. Crossing the border from Monique, and crossing township lines from Patti C.

Beautiful flowers from Sue & Jim, celebrating the end of chemo. They've been brightening these past few days, and that lovely ceramic pumpkin they're in will continue to do so for long after.

I'm one lucky girl.

Radiation

Just a brief bit about radiation, again, as I understand it.

Necessary to attack the area of the tumour. Chemo works to destroy cancer cells throughout the body. Because cells would have to multiply by the millions before forming anything large enough to detect any other way, the chemo prevents that. The chances of more cancer cells being present in my body are greater because, well, I had a cancerous tumour.

The tumour was surgically removed, which could change the patterns of blood flow in that area, which could then render the chemo ineffective, in that area. Which is why the radiation is necessary. In that area. My understanding of Dr. H's explanation.

When I have my last round of chemo, I'll contact Dr. H's office and set up my schedule for my 6 weeks of weekday radiation. I'll have an appointment before I start, for them to calibrate what they need, to customize the radiation for me. I'll get two little tattoo dots that the radiology techs will use to properly orient me for my treatments. I'll start on a Monday, go every weekday for 6 weeks, and check in on one of those days, probably Tuesdays, with Dr. H, to see how I'm progressing.

The good thing about the chemo is that it pushes back the radiation schedule to the fall, when the kids are back in school. Much less disruptive for our family and easier for this SAHM, who finds herself home even less these days!