Oh Crap! I'd almost forgotten!

That about discribes yesterday for me. For cancer patients who have had surgery there is a waiting period before you start radiation and chemotherapy so that you can heal to a certain point. There are still doctors appointments and things pertaining to cancer, but for me I haven't really felt sick. Maybe just a little fatigue and more than anything else, frustration! The frustration has been brought on by the fact that I feel so normal until I try to do something simple, Like put a coffee cup back on the 3rd shelf. My arm doesn't want to reach that high and suddenly I'm reminded oh, yeah, I had surgery. Oh yeah, I have cancer. It just doesn't feel like what I expected. Of course what is left is in the microscopic stages of development and who knows, with all of the raw vegetables, green tea, turmeric, cauliflower and vitamins Kenny has been shoving down my throat, it is probably already gone! (I like that thought a lot!)

Yesterday was the day for my "Radiation Mapping". If I'd forgotten that I was a patient I was in for a big reminder. Basically the mapping is just a CT Scan with a few more bells and whistles. The problem here is the bells and whistles, not to mention the technicians. All of my doctors and 98% of my nurses have been very kind, if not fun and upbeat! The radiation team is all business. And they need to be. This is an exact science. They cannot and should not make mistakes (read on, they sometimes do). As the cancer has spread into my lymph nodes (at a microscopic level, I always tell myself. It sounds so much easier to wipe it out) they have to perform a CT Scan to look and see exactly where my lymph nodes are so that can apply radiation to them and not the surrounding tissue. But because this procedure is the foreplay to my actual radiation all of the toys are required. Let me say this. In no way shape or form am I into B & D or S and M. Pain is pain and it hurts. I don't want to be tied down, slapped around or any such nonsense. If you love that idea, knock yourself out and spare me the details. I suspect that the only people who could really thrive during radiation have the before mentioned desires.

First there is the bite separator. A hard resin device made from a dental mold that I willing gave them before I knew it would be used as an instrument of torture. It separates the upper and lower teeth while forcing my jaw forward and pushing down on my still swollen tongue. Then there is the face mask. It starts off as a flat looking cut out, but they attach it over your face after heating it and lock you down to a board (the very board that I will be locked down to 5 days a week). All of this while there is a plexi form attached behind your neck making you lean your head back and jut your jaw out even further  (come to think of it, this might be a good exercise for the neck). For this test I had to have an IV with an iodine solution to help them see what they are looking for. The Phlebotomist first couldn't find a vein. (I've had I don't know how many blood tests thru Kaiser and have never encountered this problem). Finally she found it and hooked me up. My arm started to burn so I signaled the only way you can when you are in bondage: by screaming! They came in and sure enough wrong place. I was about to asked to have her replaced but she managed to find another spot and we were able to continue. So tied down, neck and jaw jutting out as far as I can push tongue painfully shoved down by a piece of resin, in to the machine I was guided. I cannot recall any time of my life that I felt claustrophobic. For some reason I selected this moment. Get me out of here. was all I could think. Maybe if I meditate (note to self: work on the type of meditation that takes you out of your body. Maybe I can go to Disneyland during radiation) not working! Calm down, not working. Finally the machine was turned off and the crew were there taking me out. I was grabbing and assisting. I was told I could leave and flew back out to the lobby.

God knows what Ken thought as I ran up and said "Let's go". He had to put his book away and I started snatching and grabbing and packing the bag. I left him standing with a bewildered look on his face in the waiting room as I flew out the front door. Finally, the air hit my face and I could breath again. Ken found me and we walked in silence to the car. "You OK? he asked. "I will be" was all I could say".  There were tears behind my eyes refusing to make themselves known to the world. I held my head up on the drive home, but knew the truth I'd forgotten in these weeks of healing. I have cancer. This is what I have to do! More importantly, this is what I choose to do. There is so much information out there. So many statistics. Each patient has to make decisions on how they are going to heal. As I have mentioned before, I was originally planning on going a completely natural path post surgery (I wanted that tumor out!) In the end, made the best decision for me that I could. I would use radiation and chemo to rid myself of the cancer. Then I would use a holistic approach to lessen the side effects. I decided this, because I wanted an "end date". I want to know that on April 27th, 2011 when they take me off radiation, I will be cancer free. I will be cured! I know that I have a life ahead to support that. I know that I have to continue eating correctly. praying, meditating, exercising, and having a positive outlook. I know that I have to make the changes in my life to ultimately be fulfilled. It seems funny to me now that to avoid cancer I need to do all of the stuff that I already knew I should be doing anyway.

Today I booked a mini vacation for us and a few friends in October. It is nice to look ahead to the future. It is especially nice to look ahead to the future and not feel frightened. I feel excited so excited that it is easy to forget what I'll be facing over the next six weeks. I hope that while attached to the "back board of doom" and getting zapped I can remember that feeling and let it be my guide out of the darkness and fear.