Thursday, November 15, 2007

Stage 2 and Tattoos

So, do you want to see my tattoo? Actually, my four tattoos? They're my passport to Radiation Happiness.

I feel like part of an elite group, a club for those fortunate ones making the voyage to good health. I'm happy to be moving to the fourth step in my personal voyage (first was diagnosis, second was surgery, third was/is chemo, fourth is radiation, fifth will be drug therapy, and sixth will be future monitoring).

Dr. Heidbreder (the radiologist) talked to Dave and me at length about what he wants to do for treatment. He says my cancer was a Stage 2 because of the lymph involvement. For those reasons, he wants to undertake a more aggressive approach and radiate not only the breast tissue but under my arm and up to my collar bone as well. His attitude is, since the cancer got into the lymph system we need to be as aggressive as possible. There is no guarantee it stopped at the first lymph node, it's possible it passed the second and went further.

I've wondered/been afraid of this same thing but never heard any of my providers say it out loud. I give Dr. H credit for being so candid. My assumption is, and he confirms it, that the chemo is killing anything that might be floating around my body and that the radiation will make sure anything in the area of the original cancer will be blasted away.

He says it will be 10 years or so before anyone will make the assumption that "we got it." He says he won't use the word "cure," and I appreciate that, because for the moment, I don't believe anyone is ever cured. We can argue about that another time if you'd like.

So, I have a new fleet of friends in the provider community, including Sandy (nurse) and Natasha and Kristen (radiology technicians).

I went through a CT scan, following which Natasha and Kristen used the images to compute how the radiation will be delivered. It will come in three waves: to the collarbone, to the underarm area at the back of the underarm, and then to the breast). Natasha did the tattoo honors, and I was done for the day.

My appointments are at 4 p.m. daily beginning Monday, December 10 (that is a dry run for positioning and will include more imaging; the first actual treatment will be Tuesday the 11th). I'm scheduled for 30 sessions (5 days a week, 6 weeks, with Holiday closures and such it'll be more like 7 weeks before it's done).

That means I get a short break in treatments. I need to start preparing my skin for the affects, which will include redness and peeling (like a sunburn). Natural antiperspirant only and cornstarch in place of powders.

I'll certainly whine and complain as we go along (there's your warning).

Last chemo is tomorrow. In many ways I'm filled with dread--wishing there could be some other way to go through with it. I expect the next week will be very difficult. Time will tell.

1 comment:

Jan G said...

You made it to the top of the mountain, now you'll get a different perspective. My brother had the same radiation procedure after his prostate cancer surgery and his only complaint was being tired.Hang in ther Penn's, you are almost there.
Love, J