Radiate This.

"It's all down hill from here"..."Radiation is a piece of cake"..."You're in, you're out, no problem!"

LIARS!

This is supposed to be the easy part.  So far, it isn't and I have yet to be radiated.  I went in today to meet with my radiation doctor whom I haven't seen since I was first diagnosed.  I was also there to do something called simulation, where they make molds of you in a certain position, tattoo your skin with directional markers, teach you how to hold your breath so you don't radiate your heart and lungs, and basically do a dry/prep run.  Fancy, stuff.  I really wasn't nervous at first, I figured this couldn't be that bad.  I am not even actually being radiated...Part of how I have coped through this whole debacle is to only tackle one thing at a time, whatever is directly in front of me.  It's not really an option, my mind can only comprehend and wrap around so much at one time.  People have often tried to talk to me about future parts of my journey and were either met with resistance or a blank stare.  Because it's just too much to take it all in, at least this was the case for me.  Currently, I am in the midst of comprehending radiation and so far it has been a total nightmare.

After meeting with my doctor and being told that:

• I have to come everyday, even if I am sick.  I cannot miss an appointment.  If I do, I will get radiated twice in one day and according to him, the potential burns from a double dose aren't worth it.
• I will not be radiated for 15 minutes like I previously was told, but 40 minutes. Lovely.
• My entire chest will be radiated.
• Radiation has to exit, which means the burns will be on my back as well as my chest.
• I am getting tattoos!  They are permanently marking my body.  What a wonderful and permanent keepsake. NOT.
• I have to stop shaving my armpits, but don't worry the hair and skin will burn off anyways!

After getting some prescriptions for burn creams, I dressed in a hospital gown and was sent to a waiting room.  This is where I shit myself.

 My fellow patients included:

• A man with no face, literally just a forehead that had been pulled down to his chin.
• A woman with half a jaw, she told me that she had breast cancer when she was young too, and then got it again 18 years later in her mouth.
• A boisterous lady, who after telling me about her husbands several affairs, then told me how she had breast cancer once years ago, but now has cancer of the liver.
• And, a sweet volunteer who told me that her daughter died at 45 of breast cancer.  

Suddenly, I realized...I am one of them.  I am among the worst of the worst.  All of these incredibly brave people were where I am right now.  Praying that at the end of all this pain awaits a beautiful and healthy life.  NONE of their prayers were answered.  My hands actually started to tremble.  I was trying so hard no to cry.  I was all but screaming that I was different from these people but the more they talked, the more they sounded just like me.  From then on the whole morning just went to shambles.  I waited until 11:30 for my 10 am appointment, at this point I was out of time and was going to have to reschedule, I had my Zoie Jax to pick up.  Nothing trumps that.  The young schedulers huffing and puffing made it clear that she didn't like this very much.  She took me to her scheduling office where she told me that they didn't have anything during the hours of 9-11am for at least a week.  I tried explaining to the scheduler about my 3 year old daughter and how I put her in a school that she loves in order to be able to come to my daily appointments.  She suggested I move her to a daycare, or find a college student, or maybe my husband could get home from work earlier.  After several polite smile and nods, I suggested she mind her own business.  She laughed at the idea that I could have my radiation done while my daughter was in preschool, my 3 hour window gave her nothing to work with.  Reminding me that everyone wants morning appointments and everyone has reasons just as valid as mine.  She even suggested that perhaps I find a different place to get treatment.  She was cold, argumentative, and should find a different job.  I was scared, alone, and desperately needed somebody to be kind to me.  She treated me like a number, like an inconvenience, and like a joke.  After about 10 minutes of her abuse, I told her that I would contact somebody with the authority to tell me no and left her office with my head held high.  I wasn't three feet out her door before I was bursting into tears.  I wanted to march back in and say "Hey!  I am a mom, I am just trying to fucking live.  I am doing my very best here to make all of this work.  I lost my business, my husband is completely over worked, I have a 3 hour window to work with, now make it happen, lady!"  But instead, I called my husband and screamed those things to him.

Rationally, I know it is all going to work out.  I'll get the radiation that I need, during the hours that work best, and my daughter will stay at the school that she loves.  I just got the air knocked out of me, that's all.  I allowed her to rob me of my joy and I've been weepy and pissed off every since.  Radiation doesn't sound easy, and from the look of the skin on my fellow waiting room attendees, it doesn't look so easy either.  It's going to suck.  Majorly.  At least my radiation doctor is easy on the eyes.

Today I am thankful for false eyelashes.