Radioactive

I had my radiation consult yesterday and I have my last chemo treatment today: this really is a week of milestones. (Yay!)

I met my radiation oncologist, Dr. Lorraine Champion, and liked her very much. ABCCC puts out a very good breast cancer treatment video and she's the narrator. (You can see her explanation of the radiation treatment here.)

They did a CT scan on me to assess how much heart and lung involvement there could potentially be in my radiation treatment. Basically, because the lungs are under the breasts, they can't totally avoid zapping them a bit, and this causes scar tissue (about 5% to 6%), which is not life-threatening. Of course, they'd prefer to avoid this with the heart, so the CT scan lets them know if they need to perform "respiratory gating". In this case, the patient has to fill the lungs, to push out the chest wall. Then, hopefully, the heart can be marginally protected. Of course, this means that you have to maintain this position during radiation and, um, can you say "kind of a drag"? Luckily, my heart is out of scope for radiation and I don't have to worry about this.

I have a simulation appointment on Friday, January 18, and then I should be starting treatment on Tuesday, January 22. Then I have 35 treatments, Monday through Friday. The entire appointment should take only about 30 minutes, so I should be able to do this either before or after work. The first 28 treatments will be for the entire left breast and for the area where they removed the ancillary lymph nodes (left armpit). The final seven treatments will be for the tumor area only. They call this "boost radiation".

And there's your Radiation 101.

I can't tell you how happy I am to be at my final chemo treatment. All in all, I have been extremely fortunate and have not suffered as much as many people I see in the waiting room at the Cancer Center. I thank my parents, Ralph and Nancy, for some extremely hardy genes.

And thanks again to all my friends, family, and co-workers who have helped with chemo, by providing company, or food, or housecleaning, or flowers, or just not telling me when I looked less than my best. I feel so inordinately lucky.