The Reality of Radiation

What does blogging do?
It gives me perspective and helps me reflect
It spares us all from the same awkward conversation over and over that sometimes ends in tears
It brings hope

If you ever have a friend blog during struggles or after a tragedy and there is no hope, that is when it is time for friend triage. A loss of hope warps perspective and leads to a dark place.

This blog was never meant to simply chronicle events. It is a place where I process them out loud and let people peek in so they know how to support me. And the comments I get back let me know what to do in response.

I had my last surgery November 30. Doc wanted to start radiation before Christmas. I said "no, that won't work for my schedule. We're going out of town for Christmas and then snow skiing Feb 1-5." The look on his face was priceless and he asked if the trip could be rescheduled. I very calmly said no, you can have me Feb 8th.

I went Jan 27th for CAT scans and a dry run of the radiation setup. It got real that day. That is the first time during this entire process that I have been genuinely fearful. The machines are huge and daunting and you can see your reflection as you move back and forth through them. For whatever reason, that rattled me quite a bit. I think that's when the reality of radiation hit me.

Surgeries never made me the least bit nervous. I had an emergency C-Section 8 years ago that saved Ian's life. He was delivered 7 minutes after I was told we were heading to surgery. Nothing doctors can do to me in surgery comes anywhere close to that.

But willingly submitting myself to unnatural energy being poured into my body to kill cells and destroy DNA is a different story. I often joke about wishing I had paid better attention during Biology. Well, I paid attention enough there and in Physics to know what that radiation machine is  doing and it's not pretty. Doc said it lessens the chance of recurrence by 30%, and on the surface it just gives you a sunburn. That is where ignorance would be bliss, but I am not ignorant.

So I had to decide that the machine was my ally, not my adversary. That took a week. Sometimes I still struggle, but I have completed 9 treatments out of 33.

Ian said to me "Mommy, don't be scared. God says 'do not fear I am with you.' You got this." I love the way that child spurts out nuggets of wisdom.

I'm a third of the way there. Radiation is real. It is difficult. But there is hope.