A Leap of Faith

It's been an interesting week. I am finding that as time goes on, my strong courageous exterior is giving way to the fears and frustrations that go with the long slog that is breast cancer treatment. It's mostly due to the latest unknown - radiation - and the fact that after six months I'm tired. I want my hair back. I want my life back. After my diagnosis I flung myself into chemo with a fighting spirit and a sense of invincibility. After my surgery I was one step closer to being done, but it brought me closer to reality as invincibility is tough to pull off day in and day out. The third head of this monster, radiation, is all about hedging your bets for the future. It feels like a leap of faith that this particular treatment will be my ticket into old age. That some radioactive rays directed toward my chest wall and lymph system will keep the cancer out of my bones and allow me to not only check off the items on my bucket list but continue to add to it.

In preparation for radiation, tentatively scheduled for March 5, they'll do a simulation that involves a CAT scan so they can determine where my heart is. I laughed at this..."Isn't it here?" I asked my Dr., pointing to my chest. But they need to know where it is within a mm so they avoid cooking it with radiation. Good thinking.

I have a wonderful physical therapist, Andréa, who is helping me prepare for the simulation and subsequent radiation treatments. It's going to be a bitch. I can barely lift my left arm over my head for a few moments and I am going to have to hold it overhead and be still for at least 15 minutes. The thought is giving me cold sweats but I'm dutifully stretching and maneuvering everyday so that I'll be ready. Andréa put me through my paces on Monday but I'm confident I'll be ready to go. I'll get some saline removed from my expanders (whew!) then sail through my simulation (fingers crossed) and be ready for the daily grind that is radiation. Fortunately it doesn't take long...it's just every day for six weeks.

I've decided that recognizing and facing my fears about cancer and mortality are a good thing. It's scary but it's part of the process. It's like I'm spending a year down the rabbit hole, trying to figure out the secrets to getting out healthy and intact. In six months we'll know if I found the key. Like I said, it's a leap of faith, and I'm ready to jump.