You can stick a fork in me, I’ll be done!
I’ll start the last week of my boost sessions tomorrow – these are a slightly different set up, targeting the tumor bed only and using electrons rather than protons. Because of this, the flesh searing relativistic particle beam cannon can be aimed directly at my chest rather than attacking me from an angle – without the risk of burning a hole through my lung and heart and out the other side. Nifty, eh?
Other than that, it’s the same general set-up – the same mold, the same awkward position, same tugging and prodding into alignment, the same table and machine. There’s a special attachment that snaps onto the machine’s muzzle, bringing it almost close enough to touch my breast – and then the technicians hurry out of the room and treatment commences. It’s quicker – two doses rather than eight; the machine staying in a fixed position through both shots. Killing the parts of me that are holding me back.
Since only the tumor bed is being radiated at this point, the skin in the previous radiation field can start healing. Right now it’s peeling off in dirty little shreds and rolls… rather like the shell membrane on a hardboiled egg. The simple friction of putting on gel or ointment is enough to generate nasty little booger dead skin rolls – which, of course, then stick to my skin with the gel or ointment. The ointment itself, being petroleum based, seeps through my shirt and spreads in a lovely stain as if I was lactating oil.
How perfectly goddamned delightful, to be sure. Luckily, it’s cold enough for layers.
One more week. Much as I have enjoyed the radiation staff, I’ll not be sorry to see the back of them.
Meanwhile, my hair is growing and filling in – incredibly soft, like babies’ hair; mostly white, a bit piebald. Chemo hair – it’ll take six months or so before it settles into its permanent reality.
It’s a bit thin to provide much insulation as of yet – I’m still wearing my buffs to bed and most of the rest of the time as well. Now I’ve got a new handknitted hat as well (thanks, Krista!) – and I am styling.
here’s what the pate looked like less than a week prior:
And speaking of amazing, out of the fifteen hundred bulbs I had to plant, I have only 150 left. Only one window left to shrink wrap for winter; the plants all in, including my ginormous asparagus fern as of today; my brugmansia in the basement and all the cuttings dispersed to new homes.
Weep, ye mortals.
(no worries, I still have absolute masses of Things That Must Be Done yet. Starting with laundry first thing tomorrow, and continuing on to putting the garden away for winter, and finishing the deep cleaning of the house… sure, the past six months of treatment may have saved my life, and they’ve certainly provided more than enough blog fodder, but do you know what my house looks like!?!
Still, even with the chaos, I’m thinking it was worth it.)