This whole thing took a while to get going because we were
waiting on insurance. My doctor had
recommended proton therapy. Proton is different from conventional radiation
because the radiation can be programmed to stop and bounce back at a certain
point, rather than continuing through my body.
Since the area affected by cancer is just above my heart, conventional
radiation poses a slight risk of damaging my heart, where proton therapy would protect my heart. Ultimately, insurance denied proton
therapy. We could have appealed again,
but I really just want to get this stage of cancer treatment over with so I can
move on with my life. I can't get too gritchy about insurance since, by the time we're done with this whole thing, they will have probably shelled out around $200K. Besides, my doctor was able to come up with a great plan
through conventional radiation. We are
using a “breath hold” method which is exactly what is sounds like: I take a
deep breath and hold it during radiation. That expands my lungs and pushes my
heart back out of the way of radiation. Pretty
slick. That, and all of this deep breathing
is making me super relaxed.
I now have five tiny tattoo dots on my torso so they can
align the radiation machine each time I go in.
I’m becoming quite the painted lady.
When they set me up, the nurses draw all over me with a Sharpie. My kids think this is hilarious. The side effects are supposed to be fairly
mild. Some people experience
fatigue. It’s expected that the area
they are radiating will become red and sore over time and I am religiously
applying a special gel for radiated skin.
But, compared to chemo, this feels like nothing.
One of the questions I get asked quite a bit is why I need
to go through radiation if I’m now cancer-free.
Radiation is insurance that cancer won’t come back. Because they found cancer in my lymph nodes, radiation is a critical part of my
treatment. Without radiation, chances of
cancer returning are 30-35%. With radiation, the risk is reduced to around 5%. One of the earlier studies done on this
showed that for women who had breast cancer that spread to their lymph nodes,
97.9% of those who received radiation
were cancer-free five years later. Of those who did not receive radiation, only
63.8% remained cancer-free. Makes a mere
six weeks of treatment seem worthwhile.
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| The event food was almost too gorgeous to eat! |
In other news, my business is starting to pick up again. I
had the privilege of planning a high-end event for a client at the Rainier Club
last week. It was a blast. Lots of Seattle celebrities whom I won’t
mention here since it was a private event, but let’s just say one of them wears
an eye patch and dabbles in glass. If
anyone is looking for help with events or marketing, let me know. Business slowed down quite a bit during chemo
and surgery, so now that I’m feeling great, I have capacity for new clients.
I’m also excited to present a show in Olympia! Dances of Hope and Healing will take place on
Sunday, June 28, 2015, 6 pm at the Kenneth J. Minnaert Center for the Arts on
the South Puget Sound Community College Campus (2011 Mottman Rd SW, Olympia).
Join me for a night of belly dance, flamenco, and the meditative sounds of
crystal singing bowls Proceeds benefit
the Healing Garden for cancer patients at Providence St. Peter Hospital in
Olympia. Tickets are available at olytix.org or by calling 360-753-8586.
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| Carter likes to use the bra stuffers that people have given me as a "fat belly." Disturbing. But hysterical! |
Overall, I’m adjusting okay to my body post-surgery. I am working with a fantastic physical
therapist who is helping me regain my range of motion and avoid
lymphedema. Sometimes I feel myself
dipping into a bit of a depression since all of the treatments have taken
such a toll physically and mentally. I
hate to even admit that I feel down since I should be happy that I’m now
cancer-free. But apparently, post-cancer
depression isn’t all that uncommon. (Here's an article from a NY Times writer as an example). I
think for me, some of the adrenalin of fighting cancer has worn off and now I’m
faced with the reality that I look very different from what I looked like last
August and my PR firm that was booming last year is barely squeaking by. All of these things are temporary, so I’m
trying to be patient and positive and do healthy things like exercise, hang out
with friends, and cuddle my babies. And,
in the end, I am proud that I beat cancer.
Proud enough that I’m not interested in wearing prosthetics or a even a
hat anymore. The way I look, while sometimes shocking to me, is also a
symbol of the victory my family and I achieved with the help of many, many
amazing people.
