Last week, I was in charge of
leading our Mom’s Group meeting at church. What does this entail exactly? Well…I
get to stand up in front of a group of anywhere between 20-50 women, welcome
everyone, run through agenda items, introduce the current speaker, and offer up
some words of inspiration. I always struggle with the words of inspiration
part. There are a bazillion poems, prayers and stories on the Internet….how do
I find the perfect message? I need something to inspire us during the season or
something to encourage us as we trudge through our busy mom lives…hmmmmmmmm.
Two days before our meeting,
I was shopping at Pier One for an ornament for an ornament exchange. (By the way…very dangerous to shop at Pier
One during the holidays…so many BEAUTIFUL, sparkly things….and I LOVE sparkly
things!) Anyways, as I was looking for an ornament to give away, and I came
across an ornament that spoke very loudly to me. It was THIS one:
It caught my eye because it
was sparkly, pink and very symbolic of my cancer journey this past year. It
reminded me of the quote that I keep referencing about life being a “gift”. I
have been blessed with the very special GIFT of being cancer-free this
Christmas. I don’t EVER want to forget that. Okay…I HAVE to have this ornament!
So, into my shopping basket it went and here it sits on my kitchen table as a
simple reminder of one of the many things I am thankful for.
Wait a minute….this sparkly,
pink gift reminds me of a very beautiful message I heard back in college. It
was a book called the “The Precious Present”, by Spencer Johnson. My dear
friend Kari gave me this book as a birthday present after we enjoyed hearing
one of our favorite campus pastors read it out loud to us earlier that year.
This book contains the
PERFECT message! Inspirational? Yes! Pertinent to us moms? Check! Moving and
thought-provoking? Absolutely!
I chose to read a portion of the book to my
mom’s group at church. The beginning of the story was an easy read for me, but
toward the end of the excerpt I chose, I had to fight back tears as I tried to
steady my voice. Oh boy…I didn’t want to cry in front of all of these
people! *deep breath* (The “old Renee” would have been embarrassed
to get emotional in front of a group. The “NEW Renee” knew deep down inside it
was OK! It was OK because everyone in that room knew about the hardships of my
journey, in fact many of them were a part of the HUGE support system that carried
me through it. There was no judgement in the room that day….only warmth and love!)
It is such a beautiful
message, that I would like to share a portion of it with you here…I hope you
will take a few moments to read through it…I think you will enjoy it!
The Precious Present,
by Spencer Johnson
Once there was a boy, who
listened to an old man. And, thus, began to learn about The Precious Present.
“It is a present because it is a gift,” the contented man explained. "And it is called The Precious Present, because it is the best present of all."
When the boy asked why, the
old man explained.
“It
is the best present a person can receive because anyone who receives such a
gift is happy forever.”
“Wow!” the little boy exclaimed. “I hope someone gives me The Precious
Present. Maybe I’ll get it for Christmas.”
The boy ran off to play. And
the old man smiled.
He liked to watch the little
boy play. He saw the smile on the youngster’s face and heard him laughing as he
swung from a nearby tree. The boy was happy. And it was a joy to see.
The old man also liked to
watch the boy work. He even rose early on Saturday mornings to watch the little
laborer across the street mow the lawn. The boy actually whistled while he
worked. The little child was happy no matter what he was doing. It was, indeed,
a joy to behold.
When he thought about what
the old man had said, the boy thought he understood. He knew about presents…
Like the bicycle he got for
his birthday and the gifts he found under the tree on Christmas morning. But as
the boy thought more about it, he knew. The joy of toys never lasts forever.
The boy began to feel uneasy.
“What then,” he wondered, “is The Precious Present?
“What
could be so good… so much better than any other present…that it is called The
Precious Present?”
“What
could possibly make me happy forever?”
He found it difficult to even
imagine the answer. And so he returned to ask the old man.
“Is
The Precious Present a magical ring? One that I might put on my finger and make
all my wishes come true?”
“No,” he was told.
The Precious Present
Has Nothing TO Do With
Wishing.
As the boy grew older he
continued to wonder. He went to the old man.
“Is
The Precious Present a flying carpet?”
he inquired. “One that I could get on and go any place that I liked?”
“No,” the man quietly replied.
When You Have The
Precious Present
You Are Perfectly Content
To Be Where You Are.
Now that the boy was becoming
a young man, he felt a bit foolish for asking. But he was uncomfortable. He
began to see that he was not achieving what he wanted. “Is The Precious Present, “he slowly ventured, “a sunken treasure? Perhaps rare gold coins buried by pirates long ago?”
“No,
young man,” the old
man told him. “It is not.”
The Richness Is Rare
Indeed, But…
The Wealth Of The
Precious Present Comes Only From Itself.
The young man thought for a
moment. Then he became annoyed.
“You
told me,” the young
man said, “that anyone who receives such
a present would be happy forever. I never got such a gift as a child.”
“I’m
afraid you don’t understand,”
the old man responded.
You Already Know What The
Precious Present Is.
You Already Know Where To
Find It.
And You Already Know How
It Can Make You Happy.
You Knew It Best When You
Were A Small Child.
You Have Simply
Forgotten.
The young man went away to
think. But as time passed, he became frustrated, and, finally, angry. He
eventually confronted the old man.
“If
you want me to be happy, “the
young man shouted, “why don’t you just
tell me what the The Precious Present is?”
“And
where to find it?”
the old man volleyed.
“Yes,
exactly,” the young
man demanded.
“I
would like to,” the
old man began. “But I do not have such
power. No one does. Only you have the power to make yourself happy,” the
old man said. “Only you.”
The Precious Present Is
Not Something That Someone Gives To You.
It Is A Gift That You
Give Yourself.
The young man was confused,
but determined. He resolved to find The
Precious Present himself.
And so…He packed his bags. He
left where he was. And went elsewhere to look for The Precious Present.
After many frustrating years,
the man grew tired of looking for the The
Precious Present.
He had read all the latest books.
And he had looked in The Wall Street
Journal. He had looked in the mirror. And into the faces of other people.
He had wanted so much to find
The Precious Present. He had gone to
extraordinary lengths. He had looked for it at the tops of mountains and in
cold dark caves. He had searched for it in dense, humid jungles. And underneath
the seas.
But it was all to no avail.
His stressful search had exhausted him. Occasionally, he even became ill. But
he did not know why.
The man returned wearily to
the old man’s side. The old man was happy to see him. They often smiled and
occasionally laughed out loud together. The young man liked to be with the old
man. He felt happy in his presence. He guessed that this was because the old
man felt happy with himself.
It wasn’t that the old man’s
life was so trouble-free. He didn’t appear to have a lot of money. He seemed to
be alone most of the time. In fact, there was no apparent reason why he was so
much happier and healthier than most people.
But happy he was. And so were
those who spent time with him. “Why does
it feel so good to be with him?” the young man wondered. “Why?” He left wondering.
After many years, the
once-young man returned to inquire further. He was now very unhappy and often
ill. He needed to talk with the old man.
But the old man had grown
very, very old. And, all too soon, he spoke no more. The wise voice could no
longer be heard.
The man was alone.
At first, he was saddened by
the loss of his old friend. And then he became frightened. Very frightened. He
was afraid that he would never learn how to be happy. Until…
He finally accepted what had
always been true. He was the only one who could find his own happiness. The
unhappy man recalled what the happy old man had told him so many years ago. But
as hard as he tried he could not figure it out…He tried to understand what he
had heard.
The Precious Present Has
Nothing To Do With Wishing…
When You Have The
Precious Present You Will Be Perfectly Content To Be Where You Are…
The Richness Of The
Precious Present Comes From Its Own Source…
The Precious Present Is
Not Something That Someone Gives To You…
It Is Something You Give
To Yourself…
The unhappy man was now tired
of looking for The Precious Present.
He had grown so tired of trying that he simply stopped trying.
And then, it happened! He
didn’t know why it happened when it happened. It just…happened!
He realized that The Precious Present was just that:
The Present.
Not the past; and not the
future, but The Precious Present.
He realized that the present
moment is always precious. Not because it is absolutely flawless, which it
often seems not to be. But because it is absolutely everything it is meant to
be…at that moment.
In an instant the man was
happy. He realized that he was in The Precious Present. He raised both
hands triumphantly into the cool, fresh air. He was joyous…For one moment…
Then, just as quickly as he
had discovered it, he let the joy of The
Precious Present evaporate. He slowly lowered his hands, touched his
forehead, and frowned. The man was unhappy---once again.
“Why,” he asked himself, “didn’t I see the obvious long ago? Why have
I missed so many precious moments? Why has it taken me so long to live in the
present?” As the man remembered his fruitless travels around the world in
his search for The Precious Present he
knew how much happiness he had lost.
In the past, he had sensed
what he thought was imperfect in too many moments. He had not experienced what
each special time and place had to offer. He had missed a great deal. And he
felt sad. The man continued to berate himself. And then he saw what he was
doing. He observed that he was trapped by his guilt about the past.
When he became aware of his
unhappiness and of his being in the past, he returned to the present moment.
And he was happy.
But then the man began to
worry about the future. “Will I,” he
asked, “be able to know the joy of living
in The Precious Present tomorrow?” Then he saw he was living in the future
and laughed---at himself.
He listened to what he now
knew. And he heard the wisdom of his own voice.
It Is Wise For Me To Think About The Past And To Learn From My
Past.
But It Is Not Wise For Me To Be In The Past.
For That Is How I Lose My Self.
It Is Also Wise To Think About The Future And To Prepare For My
Future.
But It Is Not Wise For Me To Be In The Future.
For That, Too, Is How I Lose My Self.
And When I Lose My Self
I Lose What Is Most Precious To Me…
==============================
Although the story does not
end here, I felt like this excerpt really conveyed the message I wanted to
share with you this holiday season. J Thanks for taking the time to read
along….
As my friend Kari inscribed
on the inside cover of my book…”May you never let go of the PRECIOUS PRESENT.”
Love to all…
Nae
December 20, 2012.
365 days ago today…my world CHANGED.
Breast Cancer. Uncertainty. Anxiety. Treatments. Love. Support. AND THE BLESSINGS OF PERSPECTIVE.
“Life is not always tied with a bow, but it is always a gift!”**
Happy to be celebrating this year’s Christmas CANCER FREE!
**saw this quote in the newspaper last spring....LOVED it...just don't know the author.
Let’s see….where did I end
off last time? Oh yes…I think I was frantically prepping for surgery and trying
to enjoy some chips and dip, followed by a glass of yummy egg nog before the
clock struck midnight. J
Ha!
Following my midnight snack,
I proceeded to follow the instructions for showering the night before surgery. (And they don’t just tell you to jump in the
shower before going to the hospital. Nope….they give you very SPECIFIC
instructions including a list of accepted anti-bacterial soaps that you are
supposed to use.) The sheet of paper from the surgeon states that you
should wash with special soap a good 3 or 4 times from your chin to your toes,
concentrating specifically on surgical incision areas the night before surgery
and then again the morning of. I showered at about midnight, slept in fresh
clean sheets for a couple of hours (another tip on the surgical instruction
sheet) and then got up around 6 something to do it all over again. Needless to
say, I think that I was pretty darn clean!
My surgery was scheduled to
start at 9:00 a.m. on 11/12/13, so we needed to be at the hospital around 7:00
for check-in. Once we got there, they gave me a number of hospital bracelets to
wear…1 white, 1 red, 1 yellow and 1 pink.
The WHITE
one stated my name and had several scannable “QR barcodes” on it. (from Wikipedia: A Quick Response code
consists of black square dots arranged in a square grid, which can be read by
an imaging device.) Every time they
would give me a new medication they would confirm my name and birth date with
me verbally, and then they would use a little cash register scanner of sorts to
scan the barcode on my bracelet.
The RED one stated my allergies to
medecine.
The YELLOW one stated that I was a
fall risk…not because of my sheer gracefulness, but because of my anesthesia. (And YES I had to look up how to spell
anesthesia J).
And the PINK one was
a “limb alert” bracelet. Once you have had lymph nodes removed on one side of
your body, they advise against having blood pressures taken or IVs drawn from
that side due to the risk of something called Lymphedema. (Lymphedema involves swelling in the limb that can be controlled, but
not cured.)
I was still a little
apprehensive about being under for such a long period of time, but every nurse
I talked to that morning reassured me that I really shouldn’t worry about it
and that they had everything under control. Alrighty then….time to just let
that go! J
Aaron sat with me as I was
prepped in my pre-op room (vitals, IV placement, etc.), and then around 9:00 I
was off to surgery. I don’t remember much accept feeling uneasy as they poked
and prodded on the back of my spine in the operating room before they began.
The next 11 hours are a blur. Ok….I don’t know if I can even call them a blur,
because I really don’t remember any of it.
I wasn’t sure if I was going
to feel “rested” after being out for most of the day, but I did indeed wake up
groggy and tired. (Probably as a result of being on pain meds.) After numerous
requests that morning, I was pleasantly surprised to wake up in a private room
at about 8:30 p.m. Surgery took a good 9 hours and then I was in the recovery
room for another 2 hours after that.
Aaron (bless his heart) never
left my side. He slept on an uncomfortable chair all night long as the hospital
staff came in every hour to check on me. Their check-ins consisted of taking my
temperature, my blood pressure, checking my oxygen levels, administering
medication, and examining my newly formed breasts.
For those of you that don’t know,
I did not have implants or expanders for my reconstruction. Instead, I chose to
do the TRAM flap procedure, which consisted of the surgeon using my own skin,
fat, and muscle (taken from my abdomen) to construct new breasts. It is a
lengthy surgery because the surgeon needs to be very precise in lining up the
blood vessels on my chest after taking the tissue off of my abdomen. (For those of you that have had twins, you know how stretched out your skin gets
and no matter what you do, it always just kind of hangs there. This was just an
added bonus gift after all that I have had to endure this year. *big smile*)
In addition to observing my
breasts visually and feeling the skin each hour, the nurses also used a Doppler
machine to listen to them. Wait a minute….isn’t that something you hear on the
weather channel? Well yes, it is, but it is also a tool that they use in the
hospital.
The Doppler machine has a
cord with a small silver wand at the end (see picture below). They put an
ultrasound-type gel on the end of the wand and they use it to monitor the blood
flow in and out of your “flap”. If the blood flow is not sufficient to the new
breasts, there is a risk of partial or complete loss of the tissue flap. (Insufficient blood flow is a bad thing and
can require extra surgical care, that’s why they monitor this every hour for at
least the first day or so.) Needless to say, I was happy to hear them find
that “wispy-heartbeat-type-sound” every hour that they checked for it. J
Despite being woken up every
hour for check-ups, what am I feeling? Besides feeling a little out of it, I
feel HOT because they have a heated blanket on top of me (to encourage circulation
to my new breast tissue) and the insides of my ELBOWS really hurt. And YES, I
said elbows. Not breasts. Elbows. *smile* I could not for the life of me figure
out why I couldn’t feel ANY pain on my breasts at all, but the inside portion
of my arms REALLY hurt!?! What?
After quizzing the medical
staff, I realized that my arms had been strapped down straight for a good 9
hours and that is why they were sore! Well DUH! Why didn’t I think of that? Now
that I know why it hurts to straighten my arms….what can we do about it? Ahhh
yes, ice packs! Regardless of how silly I must have looked, I was happy to have
some relief, even if it only included having cool arms amidst the hot flashes
of the heated blanket all night long.
Morning arrived and my
surgeon stopped by to check me over. She was pleased with how the surgery went
and said things were looking good so far. Hooray!
(You can click on the picture collage to enlarge it. More pictures to come in another post...)
Stay tuned for more
information on the rest of my hospital stay and my recovery…
Thank you for your thoughts
and prayers on that day and every day! There is POWER in prayer and I truly
believe that…
Love to all,
Nae
Hi all…
Just trying to get caught up
on my blog entries before surgery TOMORROW! EEK….where does the time go?? I will
finish with some more thoughts below on radiation and then will talk briefly
about my plans for reconstruction. Thanks again for following along…and of
course, for being patient with my sporadic postings. J
My radiation treatments consisted
of the same routine practically every day, except that every other day was “wet
towel” day. On these days, the techs would get me all set up and then they
would put a wet towel over my chest where the beams were pointing. They said
that this was a way to control and vary the depth of the radiation so that the
beams would affect my body more closely to the skin. I find it interesting to
think about a wet towel providing another “layer” of my body and wonder how they
came up with that technique….or any of their techniques for that matter? How do
they KNOW that the beams are pointing precisely where they want them to point? (They
ARE invisible, which seems kind of crazy to me.) And how do they really know
how much air I need to inhale so that my chest will be at the exact location so
they aren’t radiating any of my internal organs? Some things are just beyond my
level of comprehension, but I am sure thankful that my doctors get it! I am
constantly amazed by the level of technology and medicine we have available to
us these days.
So the actual radiation
procedure didn’t hurt at all, but what the radiation did to my skin sure was
painful! One of our good friends compared the idea of my skin being radiated to
the idea that it was, in a sense, being “microwaved”. Which is kind of yucky to
think about, but it made understanding the burns easier for me. When I looked
in the mirror, I could tell a definite difference in the color of my skin where
it was radiated. It was pink at first, then turned a bright “sunburn” red, and then
became seriously blistered (bigger than a half dollar size blisters in places).
The most painful part was having OPEN blisters both on my chest and under my
armpit. OUCH! My skin was RAW and it was NOT pleasant.
Again, my radiation techs and
nurses weren’t the most nurturing people on the planet, so they only gave me
lotions and protective patches for my skin when I proactively asked for them. (Even though they could obviously SEE my skin
was raw, it was like pulling teeth to get extra patches from them. And it
wasn’t until I was around other breast cancer patients at a support group that
I was told there was a prescription level cream that I could be using to help
my open blisters heal. I was really ANGRY that no one at my doctor’s office had
even mentioned this as an option to me! Seriously…I shouldn’t have to call my
nurse and ASK for a prescription cream for my burns, I feel like she should
have just offered it up as an option. Sorry to sound bitter, but I really
WAS bitter! *sigh*)
Anyways, I was able to play
in a few volleyball tournaments over the course of my radiation treatments
(which I LOVED!)…but it wasn’t an easy process to get ready for a day in the
sand with open blisters. Armed with gauze padding, multiple rolls of pre-wrap
and adhesive wrap for on top, Aaron carefully wrapped me up like a little mummy
before we went out for the day. It was a tricky procedure, because I needed to
be wrapped tightly enough so the bandages wouldn’t fall off, but I needed to be
able to take a deep breath too! J
My skin got so bad toward the
end, that they made me take some time off before finishing my last few
treatments. While it was nice to have a break from the radiation, I was a little
concerned because I didn’t think my skin would be healed for my surgery
reconstruction date of September 3rd.
A week before my scheduled
surgery, I went in to meet with my plastic surgeon. At that time, my skin was
almost completely healed except for a very small scab (about the size of a lima
bean). I was surprised at how well it had healed, but she said I wasn’t ready
for surgery yet. (Even a very small
opening in the skin can cause a huge risk for infection, and she didn’t want to
chance it.) We decided it was better to push out my surgery date. And since
we were already postponing it, I jumped at the chance to get some more indoor
volleyball tournaments in before having another surgery.
My favorite number is 12. So
November 12th sounded like a good day to have surgery. Wait a MINUTE….not
only is it the 12th day of the month, but it is actually 11/12/13! How cool is that? I don’t
think I will ever forget that and it must be a good omen….right? I sure hope
so, because I am a little anxious about having surgery tomorrow.
It’s not the idea of having
surgery, but the length of the surgery that has me a little nervous. I am
scheduled to have a TRAM flap reconstruction surgery. What does that mean
exactly? Well, they are going to use skin/muscle/fat from my abdomen (think
free tummy tuck….woohoo!!), to form newly reconstructed breasts. The surgery is
low risk, but the idea of being under for 8+ hours seems excessively long to
me! I have had a few tears thinking about it along the way and I am sure they
will flow freely tomorrow morning, but that is just how I deal with each new
uncertain challenge and things have always turned out just
fine! (Knock on lots of wood….and YES….I really did just knock on wood.
*smile*)
So here I am trying to get
this blog post up at 11:30pm the night before my surgery. For those of you that
know me well…you are laughing at me leaving things to the last minute….AGAIN. I
don’t think I will ever learn, but the good news is that I have been so busy
today, that I really haven’t had a chance to sit and worry! Worrying is never
fun, so I am going to do my best to LET GO and just have faith in the path that
God has in store for me. If you have a moment to send a little prayer my way on
11/12/13 for a smooth surgery…I would highly appreciate it. J
I’d better sign off for now…I
still have to water my plants, pack, take a shower with special soap (yes….these
were the instructions from my doc) and eat something before the clock strikes
midnight! HA!
I hope you all know how very
much you mean to me! I have the best family and friends a girl could ask for.
Love and Hugs….
Nae
Ok, so I just realized that I
promised I wouldn’t wait another month to update my blog and here it is Oct. 1st!
Technically….it is still under a month’s time since my last post, so I hope you
will forgive me for the delay. J
Let’s see….where were we? Ah,
yes…..the beginning of radiation.
Monday, June 24th
is when it all began. I drove to radiation, put my little pink parking permit
in the front windshield and went inside to undergo my 20 minutes of therapy. I
know that they informed me that it wouldn’t hurt, but deep down I was nervous
and a little uneasy about it all. It didn’t make me feel any better that I was
entering a room where there were warning signs outside the door that read
CAUTION “high radiation area” and CAUTION “radioactive materials” to alert the
general public.
Upon entering the room, the
technicians took my picture and confirmed my birth date to make sure they had
the correct radiation plan in place for my session. After undressing from the
waist up, they had me lie down on the table and relax my arms up above my head
on my “pillow”. They kept fidgeting with it and telling me to relax as they
pushed and pulled my arms every which way. I told them it didn’t feel right and
they realized that they had the WRONG pillow underneath me. (it was another
patient’s pillow mold, apparently with the same last name). Ummmm…I was a
little uncertain before….but now they had me VERY anxious and not very
confident that they knew what they were doing at all! They shrugged it off like
it was no big deal….but I knew deep down that it really WAS a big deal!
As with any of my treatments,
I experienced a number of tears before we began. I think that uncertainty just
brings out my fears, and my form of release comes in the way of tears ….so out
they came! Unlike, any of my other health care providers (which have all been
AWESOME), I didn’t receive any heart-warming reassurances that everything was
going to be ok or compassionate hand squeezes…they simple went about their work
positioning me where I needed to be while the tears fell down my face. I was
unable to even wipe my own tears because my arms were positioned above my head
and I was supposed to lay as still as possible. I felt like the techs there
that day were just going through the motions of their job with not a care in
the world. Didn’t they understand what I was going through? Couldn’t they see
that I was upset? I will never forget how I felt that day and how surprised I
was at their lack of compassion.
After a while of them making
sure I was setup and locked in place (using the laser lights, a ruler, and
making me hold my breath while they measured and re-measured my location), they
left the room. I can still remember the sound of the door closing. WAIT! I
don’t want to be in here all alone!! Come back!!
It doesn’t matter what I wanted or didn’t want…the therapy was put in place for me to try to avoid my
cancer from reoccurring, so I just needed to suck it up and go through with it.
Whatever they were going to do to me was worth it if I could remain cancer
free!
So there I was, all by
myself, laying on this table in the middle of a dimly lit room with a HUGE
machine sitting above and below my head/chest area. I wasn’t supposed to move
at all but I couldn’t stop my eyes from looking here and there and everywhere
before they began. I was alone in this room that was dangerous for anyone else
to be in and I didn’t know what to expect.
The techs could see me, but I
couldn’t see them. There was a video camera in the room and speakers so I could
hear what they were instructing me to do, but I still felt all alone.
I decided that I would keep
my eyes shut for the duration of my first radiation treatment. Before they
began, I shut my eyes tightly and they didn’t open up until my treatment was
completed. I am not sure if I thought that it would hurt “less” if my eyes were
closed, or if I just wanted to avoid seeing things I didn’t want to see, but I
felt better having them closed, so that’s what I did.
The machine was located both
above and below the table I was lying on and it rotated around me to pinpoint
specific angles of my body to radiate. The top part of the machine was in the
shape of a circle a with a rectangular piece of glass on the bottom side.
Inside the glass you could see a number of different sheets or sections of
“lead” coming from each of the long sides of the rectangle to meet in the
middle. The lead pieces moved in and out of sight to create different openings
or patterns to allow the the radiation beams through. (For those of you that do
not know…lead is something that is used to block harmful beams of radiation and
often times you will get a lead filled apron to wear when getting x-rays at the
dentist or other doctors to protect your body from unnecessary harm.)
The patterns of lead in this
machine would change for each burst of radiation I received. The sound of the lead sheets
moving around reminded me of a “Transformer” movie with a lot of robots transforming
into something different….it was very mechanical in nature.
On the bottom side of me,
they extended out a big round circle (about the size of a small kitchen table)
and it was called the “beam stopper”. It was super loud when they first
extended it out, but when I asked what it was and they told me it was in place
to block the radiation beams from going right through the wall, I understood
why it was so noisy! I am sure it was full of lead and extra heavy! The idea of
having strong bursts of radiation pointed right at me that could potentially go
through the wall and harm other people made me even more uneasy, but what could
I do except try to relax and just power through it all?
Once the linear accelerator
was in place and the lead patterns were conformed, they instructed me to take a
breath and hold it. While I held my breath, I could hear a long, low continuous beep that
indicated that they were radiating my body. Once the beep stopped, they told me I could breathe again, while they repositioned the accelerator for the
next burst. The length of time each burst of radiation took really varied in
nature. Some were longer periods of time with lower concentration beams (maybe
40 seconds) and others were very brief with extremely high concentrated bursts
(maybe 2 seconds).
I don’t know about you, but I
realized that I am not very good at holding my breath for long periods of time.
There were several instances where I would get panicky that I couldn’t hold it
any longer! I think I freaked out because I wanted to be able to breathe, but I
didn’t know how much longer I needed to hold my breath and I couldn’t move or
talk to them to find out when it would stop.
Having to hold my breath was
probably the most stressful part about my radiation. I was happy that I
couldn’t feel anything while it was happening, and I was glad that it was only
a short period of time (it took about 20 minutes to complete and then I was on
my way)...
Below are some pictures of the machine I was describing above (you can click on it to enlarge it)...
Staytuned for Radiation part 3!
Have a great week everyone…
Love to all!
Nae
Is it September ALREADY?
Having the kids home over the summer made it tricky to get anything
done….including blog entries! Now that they are back in school though, I have some
more time to reflect on life and get reorganized. Part of me feels a little guilty
that I was excited for school to start….and part of me is really embracing it. J
You know what else I am REALLY
embracing? The fact that I am DONE with radiation! WOOHOO!!! I have a lot of
information and pictures to share about radiation and I don’t want to bore you
and dump it all into one entry, so I will start with the first part and then
add on in the days to come. J (And I promise not to wait a month
before I post again.)
The end of June marked the beginning of my six and a half weeks of
radiation therapy. WHY do I still need to have radiation if I am “cancer-free”?
Is radiation really necessary? When I posed these questions to my radiation
oncologist (separate from my regular oncologist), he told me that just because
they didn’t find cancer, doesn’t mean it’s not there. Well that doesn’t seem
very encouraging, now does it? I really don’t like to think about that, but
it’s not something that I can control, so I continue to be “cautiously” optimistic
and try to focus on the words “cancer free” instead. J
The radiation oncologist (RO)
also went on to tell me that people with my aggressive form of breast cancer
have a 45% chance of cancer reoccurring WITHOUT radiation therapy. WITH
radiation however, the rate of reoccurrence goes down to only 5%!!!! Well then….let
the radiation begin!
So what is this radiation
business?? How does it work? Does it hurt? Will I have side effects? How many
times do I have to go, and for how long? So many questions and uncertainties
running through my mind...especially because the only thing I associated with
radiation was x-rays and the scary aftermath of nuclear weapons. Yikes!
First step was to develop a
plan. My RO informed me that I would need a total of 33 treatments. I was
scheduled to have radiation at 1:45 every day of the week, excluding weekends
and holidays. The radiation itself lasted about 15 minutes and I was told that it
did not hurt at all, but I could experience fatigue and sore/painful/burnt skin
toward the end of treatment.
Before I could start my
treatments though, I had to undergo preparations and a radiation “simulation”.
Undressing from the waist up, I laid down on a table with my head resting on
this “flat-rectangular-plastic-pillow-thing”. (I am sure that is the technical
name for it. HA!) The nurse directed me to lift my arms up over my head and
then she formed the pillow around me to support my arms in mid-air. Once I was
in place, they took all of the “air” out of the pillow to create a mold
specific to my body and the position they needed me to be in each time for
therapy.
Precision is key. And when I say precision….I
really mean it. The beams that they use for radiation are so potent and harmful
that it is extremely important that you are only radiated where necessary. My plan
consisted of specific areas that were carefully calculated to give me the best
benefits from radiation, while trying to avoid harming any of my internal
organs in the process.
In order to line me up
correctly for treatment each time, they gave me 3 very small “pinpoint” tattoos
(yes they are real tattoos), and they are located on my left chest wall and
underneath my armpit (the side where my 13 lymph nodes were removed). I am
pretty sure they are the only kind of
tattoos my mom would have EVER allowed. She always used to tell me I would be “grounded
for life” if I got a tattoo or ever went bungee jumping. *smile* I think that
was her way of telling me that she didn’t approve of those things. I think I
get a pass for my current circumstances….and no worries mom…you couldn’t pay me
enough to go bungee jumping! J
Anyways….my radiation
simulation occurred in the actual room where I would be having my treatments.
They basically went through a trial run of having me lay on the table with my
molded pillow, while using a number of red laser lights to line me up precisely
where they wanted me to be. I think that there were at least 3 different laser
lights hanging down from the ceiling and 2 additional lasers on the side walls….all
pointed directly at me. They used these laser lights, in combination with a
ruler and my tattoos as a guide to position the table and then lock it into
place so that I was in the exact location for my actual treatment.
Once locked in place, they
instructed me to take several deep breaths and hold them as they took some more
measurements and rotated the “linear accelerator” (aka radiation machine) around
me.
Now that the simulations were
done and the preparations were in place, I was ready to begin my radiation
treatments the following week.
Stay tuned for more info and
pictures on my next blog entry, Radiation Part 2…
Love to all…
Nae
Where does the time go? A lot
has happened in the past month or two and I am behind on keeping you in the
loop. ;) My apologies, but I am sure you understand. I last wrote about my
double mastectomy and the days that followed. (This was back in May, which seems
so very long ago already!)
After a little bit of a rough
go at it with surgery in May, I was happy to have June bring some sunshine my
way. I started the month with getting fitted for my prosthesis (translation: I got two new bras that had
mesh pockets that you can slide silicon prosthesis into). They aren’t
“real” and they aren’t “mine”, but they make me feel comfortable and more
confident then I have in a long time. I think they look very natural and I am
reassured by this every time someone gives me a confused look when I tell them
I had a double mastectomy and they look at my chest. It’s a little AWKWARD, but
I am thankful that people don’t “know” that they are fake, unless I tell them. J
So what is it like to not
have a chest anymore? To be honest, it’s kind of weird. I don’t have a lot of
sensation where they stitched me up (the nerves take a while to come back) and
there is also somewhat of an indent where my breasts used to be, which is kind
of crazy to think about, but I know that it is just temporary, so I try to roll with it.
It was a little over a month
before I got to step out onto the volleyball court again (my first time in the
sand). As most volleyball players know…your timing in the sand is quite
different then indoors on a hard court. The sand provides somewhat of a
challenge to run around in and jump out of, but one thing I hadn’t thought of
was that my center of gravity had also changed. Anyone want to guess what part of my
body hit the ground after my first initial jump in the sand?? My
feet touched the ground first, but my balance landed me right on my butt! HA! I
felt a little clumsy, but I quickly realized that the weight distribution of my
body was just different and I needed to adjust. (I do not wear my prosthesis
when I play volleyball.) It was a little bit of a learning experience for me,
but I think I have it figured out for now… J
It was great to be able to
get fit for my prosthesis, but my favorite part of June was that Aaron and I
were able to take a wonderful trip to Ireland together! Two of our volleyball
friends were scheduled to get married in a castle in Ireland and I made sure to
do EVERYTHING in my power to arrange and rearrange my doctor’s appointments,
surgery and radiation, so we could fit this trip in. J I wasn’t sure it was going to work,
but I am SO thankful that it did! I think it was just what the doctor ordered at
the halfway point in my cancer treatments-----chemo…CHECK, double
mastectomy…CHECK...time for a trip before radiation and another surgery CHECK!!
Not only did we get to go to
a wedding in a castle, but we got to spend time with a lot of wonderful friends
and reconnect with each other after a rough 6 months of dealing with cancer. I
feel very blessed that we were able to enjoy this time together and the only
“side effects” I really encountered were some seriously swollen ankles on the
trip, and I really can’t complain about that at all. J I was so excited to not have any
restrictions while we were there, and my taste buds had returned to normal after
chemo, so I was able to enjoy the food, the cider and the ice cream! Hooray!!
Here are a few pictures from our trip… (you can click on each individual collage to see them up close.)
More info on radiation in my
next entry…thanks for following along!
Love to all,
Nae
