Happy snowy day all. I hope that most of you got to leave your jobs a little early and are now snugly cozied up in your homes with a mug of hot chocolate and your puppies. Everyone should have puppies. Here are mine.
As for me, the snow doesn't make one iota of difference. I didn't drive today. I wasn't at work today. I haven't, in fact, been at work for over three weeks. I've just been sitting at home coating myself in a variety of ointments and swapping between three different lounge outfits, because everything I wear gets stained from the oil in the ointment. Actually, that's not entirely true. I mean the three outfits part is accurate, but the staying home part is somewhat misleading. It's not that I don't go ANYWHERE. Just yesterday I went out to two different doctor's offices. I have another appointment on Thursday, another on Friday, and one on Monday. It's my hobby.
Last week, I had my 6 month check-up with the oncology surgeon who took out the tumor. (Not the 2010 tumor, mind you. I'm referring to the 2022 tumor. I've had cancer twice. My chromosomes are stupid). Anyway, at the surgeon's office, I learned that things are looking as good as can be expected for a person at this stage of treatment. I also learned that I have to go to physical therapy to deal with the muscle tightening and scar tissue created by the radiation. This is never going to end.
Speaking of radiation, how are the burns, you might wonder? I don't care for them. To quote Homer Simpson "they're the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked." I mean, my radiation team is really nice, but boy are they a ever a dirty bunch of hoodwinkers. No one told me that it would be this bad. If they had, I may have just gotten to be better friends with the tumor and invited it to stay for a malignant freeloader vacation.
To be fair, the burn in my armpit is much better. Almost all of the peeling has finished and in it's place is healthier, although still discolored, skin. The rest of me, though, is another matter. From the bottom of my ribs up to my collar bone is all affected. Some areas are bright red, some are splotchy, some are blistered, some are peeling. It's like a morose Dr. Seuss book. 1 Burn, 2 Burn, Red Burn, Weeping Burn.
Oh, did I not mention the weeping? SO MUCH WEEPING. It's really quite gross. I thought that being constantly coated in petroleum was disgusting, but this is decidedly worse. It's a form of radiation dermatitis called moist desquamation and if that doesn't title make you want to hurl, the description will: "a consequence of radiation exposure in which the skin thins and then begins to weep because of a loss of integrity of the epithelial barrier. It is a painful result of destruction and sloughing of dermal layers."
True. I can verify that my epithelial barrier is destroyed. There is almost no integrity to be found anywhere. It's embarrassing, really. Also, each blister is apparently filled with a yellowish goo that dries in crystalline form on my skin. So, along with the slimy part of the weeping, there are cancer crumbs all over me. It's like those parts of my chest have been replaced with unevenly coated, very fine sandpaper made for ruining shirts and self esteem.
In good news, though, I got a new prescription for the blistering areas at one of my appointments yesterday. It's meant to help dry out the area and prevent bacterial growth, because ... eew. If I started harboring a new bacteria colony on top of everything else, I might really lose it. The new cream seems to be helping and I have hopes that I may actually feel well enough to attend work sometime before 2023. Keep your fingers crossed.
And if you want to see new photos of how the burns are developing, they are below. If you are grossed out by such things, don't look. No one would blame you. I don't even want to look and it's my own skin.
2 comments:
Puppies! Puppies > pain? Idk, thought I had learned a lot about pain and suffering these past few years but it's clear I have no idea.
I look forward to your triumphant return to work (< pain?)!
I'm so sorry this is so terrible. Thank you for sharing--it's easy, when you aren't going through it, to imagine it as less horrible. Or to not imagine it at all. It's hard to imagine how much you have been through (and are going through) and it is very unfair. I wish I could help. Sending love and empathy. --Heather
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