Mortality — Radiation, Day 5

January 29th — Happy Birthday Mom!

Radiation is still awful and today my shoulders and arms began aching terribly during the procedure. I don’t know if it was the positioning or the fact that the techs had to take extra x-rays today or just the cumulative effect of five days’ worth of arm stretching. I counted the actual radioactive zaps and I get 13. Some of them are with the machine in the same position so I don’t know if that counts as a different field or not. Since the breath holds are no longer than 30 seconds each time, maybe I’m supposed to get a full minute’s dose of radiation on a few fields and the techs break it down into two different zaps so I can catch my breath. Doesn’t really matter. I’m already turning slightly pink as if I have a slight sunburn so am busily applying my salves several times a day. Thank God for the weekend when I get a break. I chatted some more with the woman who gets radiation after me who said she’s anal retentive and always shows up extra early for her appointment. She’s had breast cancer three times and this time it has metastacized to her bones. She said matter-of-factly that this time the cancer will probably kill her, but she’s made her peace with that since we all live day to day, not knowing when our number is up. Maybe something else will get her before the cancer does. She has three grown sons and five grandchildren, with the oldest being 11 and the youngest being 18 months old. I had some interesting emotions. Was I envious of this woman with metastacized breast cancer because she had grown children and knew her grandchildren? I told her I wanted 16 years to get my youngest out of college and every year after that was a gift. Actually, isn’t every day a gift? Do we live it as such? Do I? It was a bit surreal having a that conversation about cancer and death. Neither one of us cried during that conversation, and I think that’s what struck me the most. How casually cancer patients can discuss their own mortality.