Radiation is an entirely different beast than the chemo.  First off, it's run by a U of M branch, and is located in a little building behind the Professional building, where I'd been going every week for the last 5 months.  I know how much I talked about the nurses and my Dr. Hazzi, and how warm and welcoming it was.  To go through something so terrible, they truly made it OK.  I didn't get that same feeling at the radiation center.  Clinical is the word I'd use, though I've gotten over that since my 2 1/2 weeks of going.

I've been surprised to learn how scientific this whole process is.  The doctor works with the physicist to map out your exact locations for the radiation.  Because the cancer was in my left breast, it's an entirely different process with the radiation.  Your heart needs to be protected, i.e., pulled away from your chest wall as much as possible.  I've learned there are three things that can happen when you take in a deep breath:  some people's heart doesn't move at all, for some it moves a little, and the most desired, in the case of radiating the left side, is for a person't heart to move a lot.  I got lucky...my heart moves a lot.  In this case, it pulls away from the area being radiated, and won't get hit with that magic ray gun of science that is ensuring my cancer stays away for good.

I had to do a simulation...they plug your nose, put a breathing device in your mouth much like someone who is scuba diving, and they, with computers and what-not, measure your body with your breathing.  Take a deep breath...let it out slowly until the machine stops you...and you hold your breath until the machine allows you to breathe again.  The simulation was about a 2 hour appointment...I started my radiation on the following Thursday, and use the breathing tube each time.  It isn't easy, but it's definitely getting easier.

Each day that I go to radiation, I follow the same routine:  wave to the lady at the front desk, and walk through the double doors to the area called the "women's lobby."  Change into a backwards gown, with a frontwards gown put on over that, fully dressed from the waist down.  Wait in the lobby (waiting room) with the other women who are all going through what I am.  This has been the best part of radiation, talking with other women who are all dealing with cancer, too.  Some didn't have to have chemo, others have had my exact regimen, and you can tell who's had chemo but who is wearing a wig or has what looks like a buzz cut.  By the way, I'm the one with the buzz cut underneath the wig, some women don't bother with a wig and just sport their 1 inch strands...I don't have that kind of courage.  I'll probably have at least 4 inches before I go without my "cranial prosthetic."  One woman wears the compression garment on her arm for the lymphedema that sprang up after her surgery, but she still has a full head of hair.  Another woman had a radical mastectomy, and is choosing to lose her other breast this summer, and have reconstructive surgery.  She was a stage 3B, and it was in all 18 of her lymph nodes.  2 women drive 90 miles round trip, every day, for radiation.  Another woman has been diagnosed with breast AND anal cancer...she finished radiation for her breast, and is now radiating the other end.... Honestly, meeting these women has given me another dose of gratitude.  I'm so thankful to be where I am right now.  I feel like I'm going to be a lucky one and be "one and done."  That's my greatest wish, to never have to go through this again.

Anyway, my doctor is currently sick, so I'm seeing a different doctor each week for a skin inspection.  They are looking at the changes, trying to prevent or treat the different responses that can occur.  I've learned you can have a dry response, or a wet response.  A dry response is like a bad sunburn, but your skin gets dry, can peel, and crack.  A wet response is where the skin blisters, and the blisters weep.  I've been told my skin is more likely to have a dry response.  I'm putting a clear aloe vera gel on my skin at least twice a day, trying to head off either of those responses, and neither one sounds like something I want to deal with.

I'm told 3 weeks is the magic number when people begin to feel fatigued and the skin irritation is likely to develop.  I'm technically in my third week, and so far, so good.  I'm definitely looking more tan on my left area , but that's about it.  Speaking of tan, during my second meeting with my doctor, I asked her if it would be OK if I went to the tanner...she about fell over.  Told me in all the years she'd been doing this, no one had ever asked her that.  I told her I'd put spf 30 on, cover the area being radiated... she told me she wished I'd wait until I was done.  I told her OK.
My substitute doctor told me she didn't want me to use my tanning lotion, either... so for the last week, I'm looking pretty pale.  Oh, well...only 3 1/2 more weeks of radiation.  Florida the end of March.  I guess I can wait that long. :)