So back when I started this radiation process I had all these thoughts of what I should blog about...but since I was still fresh off of Chemo I was dragging a bit much to stay up late and write..and all my waking moments seem to revolve around doing just the basics (plus a little stamping and a few trips to bowl with my alliance friends) Somehow those appointments at Huntsman seem to throw my life as a "lady of leisure" into tumult and I am a lady of dashing from one task to the next--but smiling that I can actually dash!
There didn't seem to be much of a break between Chemo and the radiation process but I did have the chance to do a walk through with my friend Susan who started her radiation just before my last chemo--it was nice to know what I was getting myself into and the one thing I remember most was listening to the big steel door clang shut as the techs left her in the room and turned on the machines to make sure they were lined up just right--that room was cold and big..and the clank of the door seemed ominous as if sealing the dangerous stuff in the room with you like something from a futuristic horror film. I just realized a few radiations ago that I never hear the door clank at the Huntsman..but I have looked, it is big and steel with a large "warning radiation" symbol front and center--one of these days I'll remember to ask if they shut it when they head out to turn on the radiation.
One thing Susan didn't prepare me for was that it would hurt when they did my tattoos. I had been harassing my kids for weeks about what I was going to get tattooed on my left breast...butterflies, hearts, KJ, a skull and crossbones...anything I could to torment them. Ryan was the most bugged by my teasing...perhaps because there is a part of him that knows I have a wicked side and that I might not just be teasing! I was stamping with a few girlfriends the day before my tattoo appt and dramatically I mentioned that I might get "KEN" emblazoned acrossed my chest. My sweet friend questioned "TEN???" and my reply was quick "yep, a 1o over the left breast and a 9 over the right since it is missing its nipple!" This was getting to be too much fun!
So the first thing I did when I met with my tattoo artist was to ask if she could tattoo something nice for me...she assured me she could, but that she wasn't a very good artist, so I opted for the regular blue ink dots. Once she had me marked and checked out by the doc, she dabbed some ink on the spots and promptly jabbed me with something pokey! Ouch!! No one mentioned that it hurt! When I ouched she said quickly--"sorry about that, I had a patient once who had lots of real tattoos and she told me these hurt worse than getting the real deal" I don't know if that's true...but it was definitely worse than waxing my legs and I don't plan to repeat either experience!
Just to make things interesting I did stop by Zurchers to stock up on a few tattoos before I went home--I had some good pirate ones, but somehow lost them in the car before I got home...but was saved by my neighbor who raided her son's collection to provide me with a great dragonfly which I put on the most visible tattoo and then added a frog on a lily pad, a gecko, a butterfly and a hibiscus blossom to cover each of my dots--Ryan raised his eye brow for at least a minute (see, he really doesn't trust me to obey the rules!) and Cathryn was immediately unimpressed with my "plastic border" that made it obvious that I was faking (15 years olds DO know everything!). Rachel and Andria were the most impressed...and Ken sort of liked them too, although I'm sure he would have like the "10" and "9" even better!
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Radiation update
Thanks to all who have continued to check on my progress and keep me in your prayers...This update is for you!
Tomorrow marks the halfway point for me in Radiation!! 19 down (tomorrow by 11:15) and 19 to go. Here's the scoop on what I've been up to every weekday for the last three weeks. Kids up and off to school, Jen throws on clothes and hurries out the door for a 10:15 appt...pull up to Huntsman Cancer Research Center...give keys to complementary valet parking (Huntsman seems to have all the little details that make you feel like a VIP not a patient) and walk through the revolving door to check in at the front desk. If Susan is there she always calls me by name and says, "I'll let them know you're here" the other secretary always needs me to remind her of my name even though I see her almost every single day too...I think Susan adds the personal touch because she was once a patient at Huntsman too.
With check-in complete, I walk through the door that you usually only walk through when the nurse calls your name..but remember, I'm a VIP...I get to walk through on my own! I say hi to the nurses at the nurses station and Diane always calls "Hi, Jen" from the back office...like we've been friends for years. Really, I've only known her for two weeks...we became fast friends over answering machines when somehow I managed to get in and out of the radiation dressing room and past the front desk and nurses station for 4 entire days without them realizing I was "the Jenifer Johnson" who was supposed to meet with Dr. Gaffney on Monday. The day I came in and introduced myself as "the Jenifer that Diane was trying to contact" she smiled like we'd been lunching for years and still acts that way everytime I see her.
Once I say hello to my fan club I head straight to the dressing room to put on my radiation fashion garb, otherwise known as a gaping gown! They make those things big enough to go around me twice and no matter how I tie the ties...they are always gaping. At least the gaps are in the front so I can see when I'm flashing the empty waiting room ...I say empty because in the 18 days I have been there only once have I shared the waiting room with another patient--those radiation techs are right on schedule! I lock my precious possessions in the third locker with the lime green key bungee and slip the key bracelet around my wrist...I find it funny that I always lock my stuff in the same locker...as I find doing anything the same everyday impossible in every other aspect of my life.
I head to the waiting room and sit, tv off (I savor every moment of peace and quiet in life these days), until Debbie, Lindsay or Glen opens the door, smiles and says "we're ready for you". They move people in and out of radiation room 2 like a well oiled machine, all the while chatting with me like we've been talking for the last two hours. In through the huge steel door and down a dim little hall covered with bright pictures of flowers and climb onto my radiation "bed"--it moves up and down and back and forth so I try to think of it as a "ride", the pillow goes under my knees and if I forget and cross my feet, Lindsay uncrosses them and hooks the rubberband around my toes to keep me from repositioning myself untintentionally...and then the real positioning for my "tanning session" begins.
If there is a new tech in for the day they always draw circles around my tatooes, the pros just darken the tattoe with a sharpie so they can see once the lights turn low...they pull and tug gently on my gown to make sure I am lined up JUST RIGHT and they say to each other, "I need just a millimeter this way, or an inch your way...Lindsay always jokes that Glen is too strong and when she says to tug on his side of the gown to move me just a smidge it's always too far. This is the one time when I am soo grateful that someone out there was a Geometry nerd because they are giving out angles and numbers like my high school Geometry teacher, Miss Howe, who used to proclaim " Don't you just love Theoroms--they're sooo cool!"
Once they have all the rays lined up they make sure the music is on (Wailing Jennies, Bob Marley, random music off their itunes accounts) turn down the lights and head out the door. I lay there in my mold without moving a muscle and wait for the machine to start buzzing the warning that the radiation is on--and I can't seem to stop myself from counting even though I know by this time that it buzzes for precisely 8 seconds before it rotates to the left and buzzes for 8 more seconds...No radiation from directly above as that would cause permanent damage to the lungs.
Then the door opens and footsteps come in and someone tells me I can put my arms back down (they've been over my head resting perfectly in my personal mold). Pillow comes out from under the legs, rubberband off toes and I am given a hand to help me sit up. From valet parking to valet retrieval I'd say I'm there for a complete 30 minutes every day...plus an extra 15 or 20 the day that I meet with the Doctor for a skin check. I spend more time commuting than I actually spend getting zapped, but overall I'd say it's more like a VIP visit than a torture session with the 180 rads that are directed at any possible remnants of cancer--did I mention the volunteers that are constantly making rounds of the waiting rooms offering snacks and drinks?? Someone remind me that I'm really at a hospital!
Tomorrow marks the halfway point for me in Radiation!! 19 down (tomorrow by 11:15) and 19 to go. Here's the scoop on what I've been up to every weekday for the last three weeks. Kids up and off to school, Jen throws on clothes and hurries out the door for a 10:15 appt...pull up to Huntsman Cancer Research Center...give keys to complementary valet parking (Huntsman seems to have all the little details that make you feel like a VIP not a patient) and walk through the revolving door to check in at the front desk. If Susan is there she always calls me by name and says, "I'll let them know you're here" the other secretary always needs me to remind her of my name even though I see her almost every single day too...I think Susan adds the personal touch because she was once a patient at Huntsman too.
With check-in complete, I walk through the door that you usually only walk through when the nurse calls your name..but remember, I'm a VIP...I get to walk through on my own! I say hi to the nurses at the nurses station and Diane always calls "Hi, Jen" from the back office...like we've been friends for years. Really, I've only known her for two weeks...we became fast friends over answering machines when somehow I managed to get in and out of the radiation dressing room and past the front desk and nurses station for 4 entire days without them realizing I was "the Jenifer Johnson" who was supposed to meet with Dr. Gaffney on Monday. The day I came in and introduced myself as "the Jenifer that Diane was trying to contact" she smiled like we'd been lunching for years and still acts that way everytime I see her.
Once I say hello to my fan club I head straight to the dressing room to put on my radiation fashion garb, otherwise known as a gaping gown! They make those things big enough to go around me twice and no matter how I tie the ties...they are always gaping. At least the gaps are in the front so I can see when I'm flashing the empty waiting room ...I say empty because in the 18 days I have been there only once have I shared the waiting room with another patient--those radiation techs are right on schedule! I lock my precious possessions in the third locker with the lime green key bungee and slip the key bracelet around my wrist...I find it funny that I always lock my stuff in the same locker...as I find doing anything the same everyday impossible in every other aspect of my life.
I head to the waiting room and sit, tv off (I savor every moment of peace and quiet in life these days), until Debbie, Lindsay or Glen opens the door, smiles and says "we're ready for you". They move people in and out of radiation room 2 like a well oiled machine, all the while chatting with me like we've been talking for the last two hours. In through the huge steel door and down a dim little hall covered with bright pictures of flowers and climb onto my radiation "bed"--it moves up and down and back and forth so I try to think of it as a "ride", the pillow goes under my knees and if I forget and cross my feet, Lindsay uncrosses them and hooks the rubberband around my toes to keep me from repositioning myself untintentionally...and then the real positioning for my "tanning session" begins.
If there is a new tech in for the day they always draw circles around my tatooes, the pros just darken the tattoe with a sharpie so they can see once the lights turn low...they pull and tug gently on my gown to make sure I am lined up JUST RIGHT and they say to each other, "I need just a millimeter this way, or an inch your way...Lindsay always jokes that Glen is too strong and when she says to tug on his side of the gown to move me just a smidge it's always too far. This is the one time when I am soo grateful that someone out there was a Geometry nerd because they are giving out angles and numbers like my high school Geometry teacher, Miss Howe, who used to proclaim " Don't you just love Theoroms--they're sooo cool!"
Once they have all the rays lined up they make sure the music is on (Wailing Jennies, Bob Marley, random music off their itunes accounts) turn down the lights and head out the door. I lay there in my mold without moving a muscle and wait for the machine to start buzzing the warning that the radiation is on--and I can't seem to stop myself from counting even though I know by this time that it buzzes for precisely 8 seconds before it rotates to the left and buzzes for 8 more seconds...No radiation from directly above as that would cause permanent damage to the lungs.
Then the door opens and footsteps come in and someone tells me I can put my arms back down (they've been over my head resting perfectly in my personal mold). Pillow comes out from under the legs, rubberband off toes and I am given a hand to help me sit up. From valet parking to valet retrieval I'd say I'm there for a complete 30 minutes every day...plus an extra 15 or 20 the day that I meet with the Doctor for a skin check. I spend more time commuting than I actually spend getting zapped, but overall I'd say it's more like a VIP visit than a torture session with the 180 rads that are directed at any possible remnants of cancer--did I mention the volunteers that are constantly making rounds of the waiting rooms offering snacks and drinks?? Someone remind me that I'm really at a hospital!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)