The final stretch

Radiation is a different beast entirely from chemotherapy. Well, hardly a beast compared to chemo for me but an interesting, humbling experience nonetheless. I'm glad to be back at the national cancer institute - where it all began - and I'm even happier to be nearly closing this chapter of my life.

Whereas chemo was four to five hours every other week, radiation is every weekday for 20 minutes. On the bright side, it's a bit closer to home than the other hospital and the most of the route is through a park. Dane and I take advantage of this by walking. One hour walking each direction adds a lot of time for such a short appointment but it also ensures solid daily exercise and allows me to be a couch potato the rest of the day. 

Can't complain rolling out of bed for this...

The radiation itself takes ten minutes max and you don't feel a thing. I lay topless on a bench with my arms above my head and my head fastened tight to the bench by a special mask to keep it in position. The radiation therapists then spend a few minutes lining my body up just right, lining up small tattoo dots on my body to laser lines coming out of the walls. Some days we begin with an x-ray scan to make any final tweaks to reach the perfect position. 

Then the radiation begins. The tumor is primarily in my chest and neck so there's lots of sensitive tissue close by. To minimize risks of long-term side effects I hold my breath. I hold my breath six times each session for 30-40 seconds each as the machine turns one full circle and then back again. It mainly pushes my heart down to minimize risk of side effects down the road.

Besides the fact I'm physically restrained in the belly of this mammoth machine, it's a little bit like a spa. The lighting is dim and the walls are wood-paneled. The radiation therapist speaks softly over the intercom guiding my breathing: 'take a deep breath in...take a deep breath out...take a deep breath in...take a deep breath out...take a deep breath in aaaand hooold your breath..." I don't go to spas very often.

After we're done, the therapists come back out to release my head and lower me back down to get dressed. During this, I always take the time to ask some questions about the technology behind the machine and how the model behind my treatment plan works. It always makes for extremely gezellig conversation as they really seem enthusiastic to share a bit about what they love. And I get to learn something new every day! 

As mentioned, the physical side effects are less intense thus far compared to chemotherapy. It took about a week and a half to begin really noticing anything. My throat is sensitive and swallowing is slightly uncomfortable. It's just present though, not painful, and quite unique from a sore throat from a cold. I'm also developing some 'sunburn' in a wide ring around my whole upper body, most intensely in my front right chest, the epicenter of the tumor. 

The most interesting side effects seem to be the accumulation of effects from radiation and chemo together. Fatigue is a very real thing that's only getting more intense. I do enjoy a nap every afternoon these days. Moreover, I notice my mental capacity and attention span has strongly deteriorated. This has been the case for a few months already, but I notice it's significantly worsened as of late - or, perhaps more likely, it's become more noticeable as the physical side effects of chemo abate. Following conversations, for example, is difficult and I'm constantly losing my words and forgetting what I was in the middle of doing. It's like typical ADD stuff but then nearly constantly through the day.

And that's one of the many reasons why the closing of this chapter with the end of treatment certainly won't be the end of the adventure. I'm really looking forward to that uphill battle though and I'm excited to focus on getting better instead of just getting by.