Reflecting on Twenty Rounds of Radiation

Well it’s finally here - the big day in the next chapter of this journey - my last round of radiation. January 7, 2021 I received my last round of Taxol, today, March 8, 2021, I received my last round of radiation. Twenty rounds, done and onto the next phase of treatment. But first, a reflection on what the last month has been like.

Starting radiation, I anticipated physical changes to appear quickly, just like I anticipated feeling horrible as soon as day three hit during my first round of chemotherapy. I was wrong on both accounts. According to my Oncologist, my skin handled radiation treatment phenomenally, better than he could’ve imagined, and I am very thankful for this. In the last three days, I finally began to experience some of the skin peeling that is expected after four weeks of radiation, just in my armpits, right where my shoulder straps go on my backpack. It doesn’t feel good. It feels like raw skin. But I have been very lucky and can’t complain at all. 

The rest of my skin is a bit pink, my breasts will hurt intermittently from time to time, like sharp razor-like pains shooting through them under the surface, but that’s about all I notice as far as physical side effects of radiation. There are also some small dots on my chest where I’ve had previous sun exposure that are common during radiation and they are itchy sometimes but so mild that I almost forgot to mention them in this writeup. 

The other side effect of radiation is tiredness. The nurse told me that it’s very common for people to get a wave of tiredness around two every day. I have my moments where I’ll be tired, but it’s not every day. I will say that I have noticed a distinct difference in how I feel when I get Herceptin versus the two weeks where I only got radiation. During the week when I also got my dose of Herceptin I was noticeably more tired and just didn’t feel very good. 

Overall, the month flew by, like I figured it would. However, I still stand by my statement made much earlier in treatment that I prefer chemotherapy to radiation. I like how during chemo you actually get to know the nurses and support staff that work with you. I like that you spend more time at the treatment center and a lot more attention is paid to how you’re faring through treatment. During radiation you see so many different staff members and are in and out so fast that there’s hardly any real connection made. I don’t know what the names are of any of the technicians that I saw and never felt a real connection to any of them. My nurse and doctor were phenomenal and extremely intelligent, however, I didn’t get to know them very well either. I suppose what I like most about chemo is the sense of security and thoroughness that I felt every time I went in for treatment. 

Now that I’m done with radiation, the next seven months will be spent getting Herceptin once every three weeks. Although a more mild form of chemo, it’s still a hazardous agent and has its own set of side effects, including a potential for causing permanent damage to your heart, so I will also be getting two more echocardiograms over the next seven months to make sure I don’t have any damage. When I started medical treatment of my cancer in October all I focused on was getting through chemo. I thought if I can get through the next twelve weeks, then the rest will be nothing. That was only partially true. Although chemo was hard, radiation had its own set of difficulties, and Herceptin alone does too. At the time I needed to know that all I had to do was get through those twelve weeks. The idea of there being more trials and difficulties after Taxol was just too much for me to handle. Radiation was hard. It was mentally taxing to have to go get these treatments daily, which I knew were causing damage to my body, and the side effects, although more mild, were still very real. Herceptin alone isn’t “nothing” like I’ve been telling myself for the past four months, and I am starting to learn how to give myself permission to be tired or feel sick when I do, that it’s ok to not feel good all of the time right now. 

I have a habit, (not sure if it’s terrible or not) of downplaying what I’m going through in general, of not letting myself feel sick or tired, because I feel like admitting that I feel those things will make me actually become sick. It’s this phobia of being sick that I’ve had my whole life, and although being positive and pushing myself when I am only a bit sick is probably a good thing, cancer treatment is slowly teaching me to acknowledge and allow myself to feel what I am feeling: sick and tired. Cancer treatment is hard. I have days where I’m so tired and I don’t want to do it anymore. Where I don’t know how I can keep going through this, and feel like the doctors are trying to kill me (not really, but figuratively speaking). But I remind myself on those days that they never last forever. Eventually that feeling goes away and I feel better again. 

In the upcoming months, my treatment will be the least it has been since last October and that is both exciting and terrifying. I am already anticipating the feeling of fear that I know will come when I am all done with active treatment in October, something that is very common for cancer patients. I am also not looking forward to my first mammogram/MRI which will be happening in the next few months. To be honest, I worry that if the chemo and radiation didn’t kill all of the cancer cells, what else is left to try? It’s a fear I will live with for the rest of my life, along with the thousands of other cancer patients out there. I’ve heard it referred to as a club nobody wanted to join and I can 100% agree with that statement. But joining this club has introduced me to some of the most amazing, strong, and awe-inspiring people I’ve ever met in my life. 

I often wonder if I had a choice to go back and not get cancer, would I. I can’t imagine my life any different than how it is now, whereas just six months ago, I never would have imagined my life today or wanting to live this life full of doctors appointments, medical treatments, and scan-xiety. But this is my life and with the bad came a whole lot of good that I am not sure I would want to trade away. I’ve grown very close to my mom and husband over the past few months, gained a handful more friends that are some of the most amazing people ever, and learned what it’s like to really live my life. I’ve learned what strength is in the human body and spirit, and I’ve been forced to endure things that I never thought I could handle. I wasn’t given a choice about whether or not I got cancer, but I was given a choice on how I handled it and what I learned from it. Cancer may be the worst best thing that ever happened to me.