Radiation

So radiation starts Monday.  After my consult/planning appointment I am now emotionally scarred.  The doctor spent quite a bit of time telling me how strange my cancer was and although the biopsies show the cancer is gone, he is quite sure I should still do radiation.  He also said I was wise to have the dermatologist dig out the cancer and risk paralysis because radiation would've been difficult and not as successful.  Hooray!  But the radiation will only reduce the chance of the cancer coming back, not eliminate it.  I have to do radiation Monday-Friday for five weeks.  Five stinking weeks!  And my hair will fall out around the site and will not grow back.  I keep telling myself to not care about that but I do.  I have very little hair to work with anyway so here's to a lifetime of ugliness.  Oh, and my skin is going to get all spider veiny too.  Makeup might cover that.  {As if I have time to put makeup on.}  I might feel fatigue from the treatments {I already am so no big deal} but that's about it.  Oh, and I get my own little parking pass right outside the oncology unit with a little card I have to scan so I don't have to sit in the waiting room.  Instead, I get to sit in a different room (full of radioactive patients) and work on a jigsaw puzzle until the the doctor calls me in for my treatment.  Did I make all that sound kind of positive and doable?
Here's what happened at my appointment and here's how I really feel...

My nurse, {her name is Cheryl which is the name of my long-time best friend so I try to find comfort in that} took me into the radiation room, showed me this white creepy mask that they would make for me and that it wouldn't hurt but it would cover my whole face and not allow me to move and do I have problems with claustrophobia?  No, I said.  {But I do now! } So I laid down on the table.  They strapped my feet down and told me to close my eyes.  They put what felt like a really hot, wet mesh towel over my face and as it cooled, it hardened.  It covered my nose and I wasn't able to open my mouth so I started to panic and made myself go to my happy place while I was pretty sure I was about to suffocate to death.  Eventually the plastic hardened and my airways cleared.  Then they strapped the mask to the table so I couldn't escape no matter how badly I wanted to, everyone left the room and I got zapped or whatever, meanwhile I was bawling my eyes out which is really hard to do when you can't move your face.

Happy Halloween!

Here I am waiting for the mask to harden and a good shot of how it's bolted to the table

Going through the tube with my feet tied together

The staff kept asking me questions and all I could do was thumbs up or down.  Why were they talking to me??!!

I have diagnosed myself with PTSD.  You say the word oncology and my pulse races, I break into a cold sweat, and I envision myself running down the street far away from anyone and everything but all that is just what's inside my head.  On the outside I just try not to sob/scream when people can see me.  I walked past all the people in their recliners getting chemo, thought of my mom, and I suddenly wanted to throw up and then run away screaming.  Instead I kept following Cheryl down the hall pretending like I wasn't having a panic attack.

I know I don't have cancer.  I know radiation is a million times better than chemotherapy.  I know I have some post-partum anxiety that increases when I'm tired, making reality much worse than it is.  But I also know that I feel terrified, the same way I feel during a bad dream.  The dream isn't real but the feelings of terror are.  I don't do well with medical stuff.  Not because the sight of blood makes me queasy but it makes me want to panic.  This is why I am not a nurse.  This is why I never went to my mom's doctor's appointments with her.  I couldn't handle it.  And this is why Henry was born when he was.  Because he is my anchor and when I hold him everything is right in the world.

I am so thankful for the love and support from family and friends near and far.  My friend brought over dinner yesterday and my Rhode Island friends had a cheesecake delivered.  I laughed as soon as I saw it.  I am surrounded by amazing women in my life.  Barb/neighbor/mother-friend helped me hang wallpaper in our office.  Suzie came over unannounced to do laundry and clean my kitchen.  My home teacher brought over warm cookies.  Mel {the famous food blogger} and her husband sent me Jeni's ice cream.  Man, that was good stuff! Randy's mom sent me her homemade granola. Countless friends have snuggled Henry when I couldn't and will continue to do so through my appointments.

Barb and Sherri hanging wallpaper at the office while I offered moral support

Coming home to cheesecake from my RI peeps after a long day was the best!

 I am surrounded by angels, both living and non-living.  I'm am being taken care of and have no reason to complain.  But the tears come anyway and I'm ok admitting it.  I know after a week of radiation it will feel like no big deal and when it's all done I'll enjoy the extra hour of free time added to my day.  Eventually I might even find time to start exercising again and then I'll really be able to cope with my life in ways I can only imagine right now.  Until then, I will randomly burst into tears.
peace out.