Day 12 of 25

My friend Yoon set me a lovely gift for the holidays. A piece of yarn from Laos. She wished me many wonderful things while a monk prayed and tied it around her wrist. Thank you for this. It's very special. The jade earrings from Vietnam are pretty sassy too. Today was my last radiation of 2009. I'm off until Monday. The Dr. order X-rays today, I didn't quite understand why. Something about making sure they were avoiding my lung. I really felt worn out by three o'clock today. I'll be surprised if I make it to midnight. But I'm happy to enter into the '10s. I have many ideas and projects I'm looking forward too. I even start some MBA classes on the 20th. Maybe I'll meet Yoon in Vietnam in February. Many things to look forward too, I remind myself. Happy New Year to all.

Day 11 of 25

Around a third of the way through my treatment-- although I know the worst of the side effects is not coming on for another week. Fatigue, itchy, peely skin, sore throat. I've been feeling really strong and energized during the day, but worn out by dinner time. Ned took me to treatment today. Very sweet -- even when I offered to take myself-- it doesn't impair your coordination. I met with my radiation oncologist after treatment today-- We talked about how it was going to get much worse before it gets better, but there is an end date-- about 3 weeks after treatment I should be back to myself physically. I asked if I could film my treatment and the group presentation of the facility next week-- for the blog. He said he would check with his manager. My guess is I will be allow to document my treatment and not the tour. But who knows? Collected my Christmas present from my hubby today-- an IPhone! I am blinded by science - fiction. This is a lame update, but I'm feeling pretty beat. I'll try to add to it tomorrow.

Pacifica Bobcat

Day 10 of 25

Vanessa was sweet enough to take me to treatment today. She is a special guest on the blog. It was interesting to read someone else's perspective on my small, secretive world of treatment. The facility is in such a quiet part of South San Francisco, you feel like you're sneaking up to the building. Today was x-ray day, to ensure my body is lining up the same as the original plan for treatment. The LINAC machine does it all. It turns clockwise until the x-ray arm is to my left. Then it turns counter clockwise and administers my radiation. Probably because I was with Vanessa and she's such a creative inspiration, I was thinking about interesting ways to document the treatment. It's so hard to describe. Should I film it with my own camera? Would they let me set one up in the Tahoe Room? What am i willing to publicly expose? Whether or not anyone reads the blog. I have my weekly appointment with my Radiation Oncologist, so I can ask for permission then. If I think I'll really do it. After treatment, Vanessa and I had a lovely lunch of yellow split pees and squash. Then we went for a peaceful walk on a Pacifica trail. The sky was an opaque grey and the forest - mossy and wet. we saw in this order, deer, a small, grey bunny and a beautiful bobcat. He was sitting in a field, observing. He seemed magical.

Day 9 of 25

Back to treatment after the long Xmas weekend. My hubby Ned took me this morning and here's a pix of him in the outer waiting room. By the time I returned to the room, it was packed with family and friends listening to their Ipods and flipping through old Us Weeklys. They have a coffee and water machine. Very classy for this HMO. I appreciate it. I suppose this facility has a kick-ass office manager who decorates and tries to keep the place calm. It even had a small "Zen Garden" accessible from the outer waiting room. Although I've never seen anyone sitting in it. The inner ladies waiting room was pretty crowded and a few women were bonding and exchanging contact information. One woman had mistakenly arrived an hour and a half early for treatment, ugh. I felt for her. All the staff stocking were still hung in the halls-- filled with candy I was told. I was thinking today about wearing my Ipod through the positioning and zapping. For all of this my arms are secured up over my head and I hold onto a soft donut to keep them there. I continued to try to count to 100 in french during the treatment -- but the creepy hi tech noises the LINAC makes make me lose my place. I need a new mental exercise to relax me. Any suggestions?

Art Therapy

I've been obsessed with the ancient Egyptians and their ideas of death and burial. I have been working with the imagery in collage. Here's one piece 11x14.

Day 8 of 25

TGI Christmas. I have the day off tomorrow. My hubby Ned took me to my appointment today, which had me more relaxed. He maintains a calm demeanor when he takes me to these things, whether or not he believes it. It's getting easier to do the appointment on cruise control. A hello to the receptionist, she unlocks the door. I leave my loved one in the lobby. Walk past a few nurses stations, if I catch their eye I get a cheery hello. past the mens' waiting/changing room to the ladies. Pick a locker -- I'm always trying to get #3 for some reason. grab a hospital gown and change. If I'm cold, I can take from a pile of scratchy, sterile blankets. I often opt to wear my down vest instead. I sit and wait for my escort to the Tahoe Room and back. Some of the patients have formed very friendly relationships with the staff. I still keep to my self.

Smiles from the other patients-- we know we can only relate to each other once we enter from the lobby. whether we want to swap stories is another thing. After radiation today we fought it out at Whole Foods for our xmas eve and day ingredients. We're hosting both. Ned is doing most of the cooking. A bright San Francisco day. I'm drinking my new obsession -- coconut juice. I'll bundle up for a walk in a few minutes. A bientot!

Day 7 of 25

The weather's crisp and cold as I headed down the peninsula for day 7. I'm feeling tired and cranky, although my radiation oncologist said the standard is not to feel the fatigue until at least day 12. I'm feeling less sociable today. The smiling yarn lady was there and wished us all a merry Christmas. I woman I had met at another cancer facility recognised me and proceeded to complain nonstop about how she was feeling after her lumpectomy. I tried to be polite and end the conversation, but she kept coming back with more complaints. Will I have to avoid conversation every day with her? I guess the ipod will be making an appearance tomorrow.

After my radiation today, the Radiation Therapist said she noticed I was already blistering -- sensitive Irish skin isn't going to do me any favors. I had my weekly meeting with the Radiation Oncologist, who I generally like, he seems about my age. He doesn't get panicked and makes himself available for me with any questions --- totally unheard of in my HMO. He warned me I could have trouble swallowing and some other crappy shite. Tomorrow is the last day of the week because of Christmas and I'm relieved. I need to go lotion up.

Day 6 of 25

A clear brisk day, my appointment was at 9:30 AM for the last time today. I move to my requested 10:45 am slot tomorrow. Someone must have had his last radiation day today. The cheery knitter was in the ladies waiting room again, all smiles. She was wearing some of her creations -- very yarn-y. On my way to the Tahoe Room for my treatment I noticed that they had decorated each steel door to the 4 treatment rooms as giant wrapped presents. It was strange to see the door closed on the other room -- sealed tight to protect others from the radiation-- with a huge red bow. Again so far the worst of it is the pushing and rolling of my body on the table to get me in place, then the clear glue sheets taped to my chest. Then I'm all alone in my sealed room while the LINAC circles my body making strange noises. That last part is very sci-fi. As I am escorted back in my daze to the ladies waiting room I see the nurses hanging stockings with each staff member's name on the hallway rails meant to steady sick patients. After treatment I took mom to the King Tut exhibit at the De Young -- I feel very connected to the ancient Egyptians and have been doing some collages with their imagery. Some art therapy if you will.

Day 5 of 25

Monday, back to work. It was hard getting out the door for my 930 AM appointment. I got anxious and couldn't find my keys, shoes I wanted, no needed to wear, and my umbrella. It was raining and foggy and my mom had insisted she drive me. Very kind, but hard to relax because she doesn't know the way. My natural control freak personality pushes me to take the wheel, but I resist. Walking through the sliding doors I was relieved that they decided to stop the Christmas music, a little Mozart is a much better choice. I went into the changing room. On the way I notice for the first time they had a large -- 30 inch wide flat screen appointment graph color coded for the four radiation rooms, with patient names, including mine. I kept walking so as not to seem too interested and turned into the ladies waiting room. The cheerful knitter was there. She likes to make conversation with everyone, even if you're sending out the don't talk to me vibe, which I do. We talked about the weather and the driving conditions and her name was called.
There is a constant stream of RT escorts taking a patient to the designated treatment for treatment, walking them back to the waiting room and greeting the next patient. You hear friendly greetings and cocktail party conversations echoing through the halls. But half of us are in loose hospital gowns and the other half in white lab coats.
They took xrays of me first today-- they'll take them every week -- another check on their aim that I don't quite understand. It all went by quickly this morning.

Day 4 of 25

TGIF! It's a relief to reach Friday, since I have Saturday and Sunday off. It's a radiation work week. My time slot is bouncing around right now, yesterday I was at 9:30 am and today I went in at 11:30. The facility is off the freeway in south San Francisco. There's nothing around but a few other buildings and empty lots. It's a very quiet, sterile setting, which I like. The facility is brand new-- open I think only 6 months. Unlike the other facilities of my HMO, there's no need to show ID when I arrive. The receptionist already recognizes me. I noticed today she says hello to all the patients by name. Today I made small talk with my three RTs. I've mentioned before how surprisingly friendly and upbeat they are. I told them about seeing cirque di soleil as they pushed my body into line with the lasers. During my actually radiating today, I practiced counting to 100 in french. It was challenging to concentrate with this huge machine humming and swinging around my body, so i lost my place a few times. I seemed to just make it to "cent" when treatment was over. It really is quick. But it's only day 4 and I noticed that I'm very sunburned already. I'm advised to put a petroleum product on my skin 3-4 times a day. I'll have to meet with the burn nurse next week.
I am very tired, but it's from my monthly infusion, not the radiation. the standard is not to feel the fatigue for 2 weeks into it and it will last at least 2 weeks after. Still trying to think of a better name for the blog.

Day 3 of 25

My time was moved up to 9:30 am, allowed me time to have breakfast and some tea, so I was much less cranky than yesterday. The RAs are very friendly, I found it too much on day 2, but appreciate their cheeriness today. I mean you have to be a cockeyed optimist to handle the job. We're all cranky and sick, really sick.

So far, I think the worst of it is the positioning before the zapping. Laying motionless (they tell you not to help) while three people push and pull you makes you feel like a lump of dough.

Oh, and today they started piping christmas music into the antichamber. Total drag. I tried counting to 100 in french to make the treatment time pass, but I got stuck at 70.

I have to work out a routine to get through it. What I'll wear, what reading material I'll bring-- the magazines in the ladies waiting room are lame and I've already flipped through all of them. Weather, should i use my ipod for the 15 minutes of treatment that I can't move.

Me in the LINAC

The radiation therapists were nice enough to take a pix of me in the table before treatment. What happens next is they line my dot tattoos up with laser points coming out of the ceiling. It takes at least as long as the treatment, as it's critical to be zapped in the right place. You lay there unmoving as they push and pull your arms and hips. Then they cover my skin with a clear gel sheet meant to increase my absorbsion of the radiation. They tape it on. And bingo, I'm ready to go.

LINAC

This is the Advanced Linear Accelerator (LINAC) which administers the external beam treatment. The treatment table is surprisingly uncomfortable. I understand that this isn't a pool lounge chair, but it has a nook that you have to fit your butt into and leg holders. At least it's an open LINAC.

The Control Room

This is where they control the lasers, safely protected from the radiation

Day 2 of 25

We were 10 minutes late for the zapping today-- and they punished me by making me wait about 30 minutes-- that'll teach me to be undressed and waiting in the ladies lounge area at my scheduled time. No pictures today, my battery was dead when I got there, maybe tomorrow.

The longest part of treatment, and the most dehumanizing, is the nurses positioning my body on the board-- lasers have to hit the exact tattooed points on my torso I got yesterday and the day before. I have to lie limp while I'm pulled this way and that. My arms are positioned over my head and I'm holding a soft red donut. I also have to demurely keep my head turned to my left for the entire treatment. I've found a particular light fixture to stare at. Dull instutional cieling, whith a hole cut out directly over my body -- another red laser eye watches carefully.

Checked in with my Radiation Oncologist -- we'll meet every wednesday -- he seems ok-- my age or a few years younger -- decent bedside manner considering. The facility is too christmasy- they holiday cheer has the opposite effect on me. I'm having a bowl of oatmeal right now and then I go to another hospital for my monthly infusion-- The infusion will take about 3 hours. I'll blog it later Ciao

Verification Simulation Day

Its the first day before the first day of radiation called the verification simulation day -- the dress rehearsal if you will. During this appointment, they inform you, "we will verify your treatment fields by taking xrays. they collorate points set out on you last week from the "planning " And tattoo additional points to aim for. Yes, tattoo. little inky dots around my torso.

The nurses were unpleasantly cheery because of a big holiday party coming up where they would perform routine. I only half tried to give a shit.

They let me into the "Tahoe Room" An antichamber if you will. After they finished the dress rehearsal, they told me I would in fact be radiatied today? What? I wasn't ready -- for my blog's sake. But I let them sap me for a few minutes, still in the exact position for about a half hour, only thinking of warm blue waves of healing splashing though my body. And that was it. not a big deal the beginning. I'll go into some real detail about the machine in future posts. The nurses agreed to let me take pictures for the blog tomorrow, so cool that. Anyway should I feel duped into my first treatment?

My first Post

This blog is an experiment. I don't know whether I'll be interested enough to keep it up for the 25 days I receive radiation therapy for cancer over the holidays. It might be fun to document it all, it might be too depressing or just plain dull. I also know very little about how a blog works, so I will be experimenting with the medium. Tomorrow is my run through before the 25 days of radiation begin, we go through all steps up, kind of like a rocket launch cancelled for bad weather, I guess. I also have no idea whether it will ever be read by anyone, even my close friends-- I won't be hurt if none of you can stand it-- it might be dreadfully boring -- i'll try to keep it a little funny if I can, as is my nature. ok. A Domain.