November 10

It's Thursday morning of Week 5, which means that I have 2 more radiation sessions in the regular schedule and then 5 after that in the boost week. What is a boost week, you ask? Super question. It's a terrifically exciting award that I have earned. The prize is extra energy rays aimed at my already damaged body. Yay! Although I would rather have had a trophy ... or a cake. I think oncology offices should hand out more cake. 

Yesterday, at radiation, the technician asked me what I had planned to celebrate the completion of my treatment. I couldn't think of anything. She suggested that I at least engage in some pampering, get a massage or something while I'm considering what else to do to mark the wonderful cessation of  horrendous events. Yes, perhaps. The thing is though, just like at the end of chemo, it isn't really the end. The side effects of radiation will continue to develop for two more weeks after I'm done. What kind of jubilation does that incite? 

In truth, I will be really pleased to stop going to the oncology office every day. It's hard to feel happy or at all normal with a daily reminder that I've been playing the role of cancer assassin since April Fool's Day. That's seven months. It's long enough for me to have seen the landscaping at the Maplewood Cancer Center go from spring bulbs to summer blooms to mums and pumpkins to spruce tips and birch sticks. That's a lot of flora turnover. Logically, I know that there will be some point in the future at which this will all feel like that year that was, a bygone era of incessant crappiness, but right now I'm still feeling square in the middle of it. 

Finally giving in to something I probably should have done months ago, I've taken a leave from work. Partially, it's the result of lingering chemo brain, fatigue, and my radiation schedule. Also, it's in response to the fact that I am really uncomfortable. My muscles feel like I've done entirely too many one-armed push-ups, when in reality I've done zero push-ups of any sort.* My skin is various shades of pink from the bottom of my ribs up to my clavicle and from my sternum around to my back. I have a very itchy rash on my chest and another in my arm pit that causes pain each time I move my arm. 

But, not all is lost. I have some very good news and that is that my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes have started to come back. It will certainly be a long time before I have flowing locks, but it's definitely cause for celebration. And maybe cake. 

*Footnote: I once did 52 push-ups in a minute, earning me a prize at my Tae Kwon Do class. That was a long time ago, though. It was before I had muscles moved from my back to my front and before I learned that my body was working against me at a chromosomal level. Also, I used both my arms. I think the correct number of one-armed push-ups is probably none.