Radiation 101

This is what I get to see every day. I walk through a hallway that's plastered with these signs, and then I lie down on a table like this...

And then they get to work on blasting the cancer out of my body. It's awesome.

Okay, but really, that is exactly like the machine I that blasts me every day. I even have a blue triangle pillow like that to go under my knees. Two really nice girls help me lie down (I still don't have the muscles to be able to lie down flat without assistance. It's sad, but true), then they lift my shirt and line up the tattoos on my stomach with the lasers. (Seriously. There are laser lights on the walls and they cross the tattoos on my stomach. It's trippy.) Once they get me positioned just right (I lie on the table, on top of a sheet, and they move the sheet incrementally, to make sure I'm in exactly the right position), the techs walk out of the room and leave me there all by myself.

And then the arm starts to move.

Well, first, the table raises itself, and then the arm starts to move.

I tell you, my life is like a science fiction movie right now.

The arm goes all the way around me, stopping every few minutes to shoot radiation through my body. I thought it was interesting that I get shot from every angle, from top and bottom and side to side. My doctor explained that it's like cooking a hamburger. While it's possible to cook a hamburger at a low heat and it will cook all the way through, it takes a while, and one side will very likely be burnt. It's much faster and more effective to flip the hamburger halfway through because it will cook faster and more evenly. (Also, having radiation from every angle means there's less chance that any one part of my skin will suffer severe burns. Of course, that means I may get a burn all the way around my abdomen/back, but at least it shouldn't be really bad in any one part.)

The treatments themselves only last for 7 minutes. I know it's over when the "danger, danger" light stops flashing in the corner of the room and one of the techs comes back in to lower the table and help me get up. (Remember how I can't lie down by myself? Yeah, I can't sit up by myself either. It's awesome.)

The treatments don't hurt. At all. ... Well, except for when my right arm goes to sleep. (I have to raise both arms over my head and hold onto these little handles. Every once in a while I get in a weird position and my arm falls asleep, because I can't move once they start the radiation, lest my body get off-target.)

Possible side effects: sunburn-like skin burns, nausea, diarrhea, fatigue.

I talked to the doctor on Monday and he told me that he didn't think I'd suffer a lot of side effects, due to the type of laser, the treatment area being buried so deeply in the core of my body, and the dosage that they're hitting me with. He explained that a lower dose of radiation is more likely to burn the skin, as well as give other side effects. He likened low dose radiation to a shotgun, in that there are a lot of little pellets/bullets that do their damage by ricocheting inside a target - and then he said that the higher powered radiation is like a sniper rifle, it is designed to hit a specific target, and will go through walls (and, uh... my guts) in order to hit its target. He told me that if I had any side effects, it wouldn't be until weeks in, but he didn't think I'd have any real issues. He told me that I didn't need to stick to the super strict diet, that I should eat what I would usually eat and if I had any issues come up, to start striking foods from my diet one at a time. He told me that I probably wouldn't get really bad burns, that I could swim if I wanted to, just to make sure and hydrate (lotion) my skin afterwards, so the chlorine wouldn't hurt me.

And then he delivered the caveat that they all seem so fond of: "Of course, everyone reacts differently to treatment, so we can't be positive..."

And now I know why they throw that disclaimer out.

I've been sick every day. Like, pukey sick. Monday and Tuesday, I was just nauseated (no actual puking) from 3:00-8:00. Wednesday I started puking my guts up at 4:30, and couldn't hold anything down until after 8:00. Today, I told the techs that I've been stomach sick every day, and that yesterday I lost everything I ate/drank for hours. The all around reaction was "But it's so soon!". No kidding, it's so soon. Since day 1?! Who does that happen to? ... Oh, me. Awesome. By the time the treatment was over, they'd lined up an appointment with a nurse and a doctor following treatment today, and now I have a prescription for nausea medicine that I'll take half an hour before treatments to make sure I can keep my lunch and eat some dinner. Tomorrow I'll meet with the nutritionist to go over the diet do's and don't. Egads. ... Oh, well. At least I had that one day (Monday) to live happily under the delusion that I could eat whatever I wanted to and I wouldn't be sick.

My stomach itches. Not as bad as it did the first few weeks after surgery, when all the stitches and staples were making stuff come back together, but still. It itches. ... I'm afraid it's the beginning of the sunburn. I bought the GINORMOUS sized bottle of Lubriderm at the WalMart today. Hopefully, that'll help with that.

Also, I'm tired. I mean, I am T-I-R-E-D. I haven't been this tired since... well, since week 2 after surgery. So, apparently the fatigue is starting to set in.

Oh, and I'm about to trade my stock in Dulcolax in for stock in Immodium. *If you've been making a bundle on recent laxative sales you may want to sell while your stocks are high.

So much for the thought that my side effects would be minor, if at all. The good news? They won't last forever - and the cancer will be gone.

One more day this week, then - 1 week down, 5 to go.

*As I am a consumer, and not an employee, of either company, I'm pretty sure I can't get in trouble for insider trading with this little tip.