On the Home Stretch

As of today, I only have four more radiation treatments left.  I can’t believe it. This means that nearly a year of cancer treatment is finally coming to an end.  When I finish next Tuesday, I will have endured five months of chemo, a double mastectomy and 34 treatments of radiation.  I’ll still have a few follow-up appointments and a small dose of chemo every three weeks, but for all intents and purposes, I will be done with treatment and cancer-free.

Radiation hasn’t been nearly the ordeal that chemo was.  The appointments are very quick – only about 20 minutes on average – and I’ve had almost no side effects.  My skin is definitely pink and tender in the radiation fields, but I’m not experiencing any of the fatigue that I’ve heard others experience.  Of course, exercising 3-4 hours a day might be helping keep my energy up, too.  I might be going a little overboard, but it feels so good to MOVE after being nearly dormant for so many months.

In fact the only really painful part of the radiation experience so far isn't directly because of radiation.  I was getting a MUGA test where they take out some of my blood, make it radioactive and then shoot it back through my body and take pictures of my heart to see how it’s functioning.  (MUGA in this case, my dear friends in local government, stands for something to do with the heart and not for “Municipal Urban Growth Area.”  And yes, I am well aware that I’m a nerd.)  For the test, the tech attached sensors to my torso, including one on my radiation field.  I didn’t think much of it until she ripped the sensors off and a one and half inch piece of my radiated skin came with it.  It was the opposite of fun.  Even a week later, I still have a gaping wound despite using specially prescribed lotion to heal and protect it.  So annoying!  I would be mad, except that it was an honest mistake and I have heard that they have since issued a safety bulletin to MUGA techs so this won’t happen to anyone in the future.  

Other than missing some skin, the only other downside to radiation has been the driving back and forth from Olympia to Seattle.  Dancing everyday has totally made up for this, however, and I am so grateful to my husband and family for supporting me in this endeavor.  I’ll write more about my 7-week dance odessey in the next blog post…stay tuned!  But for now, I’ll just say that all of this exercise and the deep sense of community that I have experienced in each dance class have completely lifted my spirits.  I feel good, and that makes it so much easier to say, “Yeah, I’m missing my boobs and long hair, but heck, I’m alive.”

I have SO much to look forward to in the coming days: We’re getting together with friends on my last day of radiation, after my flamenco class in West Seattle.  Then, on June 20, I am honored to be the feature dancer at Enat Ethiopian Restaurant (11546 15th Avenue NE / Seattle, WA) along with my friends/students Raiyah and Sakura.  Just eight days after that, on June 28, is the show I’m presenting in Olympia to raise money for the Healing Garden for cancer patients at Providence St. Peter Hospital!  Dances of Hope and Healing is coming together beautifully - all of the performers, the theater and the hospital have been a dream to work with.  More information about the show and tickets are available here. Thurston Talk was kind enough to do an article about the show, too.

So much to look forward to in the coming days...and the rest of my life.  Thank you to my doctors, to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, to Providence St. Peter Hospital and to all of my friends and family for giving me another chance at this amazing life.