Radiotherapy

I began radiotherapy on Wed, July 25^th. I will have 25 days of radiotherapy, every day for five weeks (except weekends).

The first day, a nurse showed me the ropes. I have a pigeon hole where I store my over-washed, blue hospital robe and ever-so-attractive white hospital gown. It is here I come every day, collect my gear, change in a side room and put all my belongings in a little plastic carry thing; the type you see at Foodland.

So far, I haven’t had to wait, there has been someone waiting for me once I’m changed. They escort me into the room where the machine lives.

The Machine

I’m in awe of her! (I don’t have a name for her yet and am happy to accept ideas.) She’s a marvel of engineering and technology. The pictures below are similar models and illustrate how she rotates around me.

The folk in these pictures look way too comfortable. I have to be positioned with my arms over my head in stirrup-like holders. The staff fiddle and pull and push until I’m in exactly the right position. I am aligned with my tattoos, lasers, rulers and the machine itself to within a millimetre.

Once in position, the process only really takes a few minutes. There’s a thick skin-like mat that is placed on my chest which has something to do with the depth of the radiation. I go off to my safe place and relax until I hear, ‘Deep breath Kristina’. I take that deep breath. ‘Perfect. And hold…’ Ten or so seconds later I hear, ‘Breathe normally’ and so I do. This is repeated a number of times while the machine turns to the angles and measurements it’s designed to, for me.

When it’s all over, I have been in the same position, as still as possible, for between 30 and 50 minutes. Now comes the hardest bit of the day, getting up. My shoulders seize up in that position for that long and it takes me a little time to get my arms to my side. They hurt so I can't use them to help sit up. There is also a ledge under my bottom to stop me from sliding which makes sitting up really difficult. I get a bit of help from the staff who use my gown to help me sit up. Chemotherapy and surgery have left me without much core muscle strength and I’m embarrassed by it. But that’s the worst of it.

After the treatment, I am fitted with film, which helps keep moisture and oils in my skin and promotes healing. It doesn’t seem to stay on me for more than 24 hours so over the weekend, I lathered the site in Sorbeline as prescribed. I learned today that I'm not supposed to get it wet. I'll try keeping the water off it and see if it lasts a bit longer. 

I'm lucky to be able to stay with a friend nearby a few days a week. The daily commute would be too exhausting. 

Four days down, 21 to go.

I’ve got this.  

https://thebreastcancerwarrior.wordpress.com/2013/05/30/my-journey-through-radiation/

http://pinkrepublic12.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-only-radio-therapy-machine-in.html

CURABLE

It’s official. All specialists are now convinced my liver is not involved in any cancer and therefore I am CURABLE. If the liver was involved I would be ‘treatable’ but not curable. It is my favorite word and I cannot tell you the difference it makes to my mental health.

(Exhale)

My oncologist started me on hormone therapy. I have one ‘pellet’ injected under my skin just below my belly button every month (yes, ouch!). I call it my slow release fertilizer. The other is a tablet that I have to take each day. These drugs will keep progesterone and estrogen from being produced as this is what fed my cancer.  

So now I have to prepare for stage three; radiotherapy.

Last week I saw the radiation oncologist for the first time. He will see me once a week when I get started. He went through the procedure with me and explained everything. I was worried about my skin burning after seeing a friend suffer. He explained there is a film called ‘Mepitel’ they will put on me each day to prevent the burning. I will also have to lather on sobeline cream three times a day. The main issue with radiotherapy is fatigue from the daily procedure. Five weeks, every week day will take its toll.

To further prepare, I was booked for a CT scan. As my cancer was in my left breast, I have to practice “Deep Inspiration Breath Hold” (DIBH) technique. Basically, I have to take a deep breath and hold it while I have the radiotherapy dose. This technique helps to ensure my heart isn’t affected by the radiation. The CT folk (a practitioner and an assistant), put me in the right position, lying on my back with my arms supported over my head. I was glad I’d been doing my exercises since surgery and had good movement. It was also a good thing I was feeling happy and relaxed because it’s a daunting and confronting thing to be laying in that position topless, with strangers, albeit strangers who were extremely professional and friendly. Once I had been carefully positioned and they had drawn some markers on me, I had to practice taking a deep breath and holding it for 20 seconds. Easy. Apparently I was consistent so they tattooed three dots so the position will be the same for each dose. I have a dot under each arm and one on my breastbone. They look like blackheads really, nothing exciting at all.

I have some weeks to rest and recover from chemo and surgery before radiotherapy starts. This time is so valuable to me. I’m well enough to start going for walks again and aim for 5 days a week. My main side effects at the moment are aching joints. This is not unusual after chemo and is made worse by my instant drug-induced menopause. Panadol Osteo is my friend.

I struggle emotionally when I look back over this time of cancer so am still staying in the present as much as possible.

At last I can smile when I dabble with my thoughts into the future. 

Curable! Wow! J