Warning: This post is nothing but a long, aching, grumpy, ranting complaint.
I've been slogging through this treatment mire for ten and a half months, and I am starting to feel really tired. My life is starting to feel like an endurance contest between me and the oncogene. I can only hope the cancer feels tireder than I do and gives up and ships out - before I give out.
I have photos of my super-complicated "breath holding" daily radiation treatments on my camera, and will do my best to post them here over the weekend. They're really shocking. Today was treatment #4, and so far I am still surviving. (One week down, five more to go.)
In a nutshell, radiation is about as fun as a visit to the dentist, without the plastic prize at the end. It involves 40 minutes of driving, followed by 40 minutes of being gowned, immobilized, gagged, fussed over, written on, irradiated, and basically made miserable. Then 40 minutes of driving back again. All in the middle of my day. Every. Single. Day.
Which probably would have been more than enough to trash my week all by itself. But I also had a chemo treatment (!!!) on Wednesday that blasted to smithereens whatever calm and sanity the radiation had left me. That involved leaving the house at 7:00 AM to get irradiated early, then fighting traffic all the way down to Boston to have TDMI poured into my chest, then finally crawling home again through more traffic well after 7:00 PM.
(Thank God it wasn't Taxotere again. It was TDM1, which is not a walk in the park, but at least it's not the horrendous hell-ride through Hades that Taxotere is.)
To complete my rant about this awful week, just two days out from chemo, today I woke up aching, nauseated, exhausted, and sick, barely able to move, much less get out of bed -- and desperately wanting to sleep. But instead, I had to get up, shower, put on makeup and nice clothes, and go in for more radiation, and THEN attend-an obligatory, eight-hour, all-day family event. Meanwhile my regular support systems have all been re-routed to other tasks, so I'm out on this leaky raft alone.
Apologies to anyone to whom I owed deliverables this week. I can usually juggle nimbly, regardless of my circumstances, but this week a few balls leaped out of my hands. (That's the Spanish idiom for "dropped.")
Blessings to all and to all a good night.