Over Easy

Inspirational song: Afraid of Sunlight (Marillion)

The week is over and the bell has been rung. Radiation is officially over. (I know, I know, it’s over and I *still* didn’t use a song from the album Radiation. I have a good reason. This is what they played for me on the table, right after the nurse told me to be as perfect with wearing sunscreen on the irradiated area as I am getting this blog out every night, which is to say, always do it.) I will be forever amazed at how easy this was, especially compared to chemo. If all I had had to do was surgery to remove the tumor and radiation, as the surgeon had predicted, I would have suffered intense impostor syndrome. It wouldn’t have felt hard enough for me to call myself a breast cancer “survivor.” Having done the whole thing, with years of pills and frequent re-scans yet to come, I will wear that moniker with pride. I did it. I might even buy some branded stuff with the pink ribbon on it, even though I was reluctant to do that until now.

As with yesterday, I’m continuing to have some side effects. I zonked out in my chair in between morning and afternoon treatments. My skin is sensitive, swollen, and pink. I am not enjoying having anything touch it, be it textiles or my own arm. Still, it could be way worse. I have to spend another two weeks out of my hot tub, while the skin is actively inflamed. Why does everything make me avoid the best non-drug painkiller I have?

In one short week, I really got to like the women who work at the radiation oncology center. Even if three of them were Nebraska football fans, they were still awesome people. When it was time for me to ring the bell at the end of my last session, they all gathered around and gave me hugs. Much more interactive than in the infusion room, although those guys were nice too. They just had more active patients there, whereas today I was the last person in the clinic who didn’t work there. Much like going to the dentist as a child, when they tell you to grab a toy from the treasure chest if you are well behaved and don’t bite the dentist, on my way out of the radiation room, they told me to grab a prize from a big basket. There were pillows and blankets made by church ladies with big hearts (the ladies, not the blankets), so I selected a small quilt. It had some squares on it made with a great peacock blue fabric, which called my name. I had moved one of the old chairs from my grandparents’ cabin up to the living room, and needed a cover over where the fifty year old vinyl had torn. I might end up keeping this quilt right there in the living room this winter, where it will be useful in its own right, and as a reminder of the experience I have survived— like a boss.