Day 203: Radiotherapy starts

I followed through with my resolution from yesterday and got to the gym at 7.15a. I did 45 mins of biking (4k), weights and some stretching. It was a starter program that I hope to build upon in the coming weeks and months.

Ii went to the Medicare office at Bridgepoint in Mosman on my way to the hospital. I got back over $400 in recent appointment outlays which wasn't bad for the 20 minute detour.

I arrived at the radiation oncology rooms at 11.35a. I was worried about my 5 minute tardiness until  25 minutes more had passed. Good thing I had my iPad mini to catch up on the news. There are 2 radiotherapy machines and I will be having all of my treatments on the one called "Minerva". I got in at noon, and Sam and Kathy got me lined up on the table. They explained that the beams would be modulated as my doctor had prescribed to different areas of my treatment (which, btw, is my entire left breast).  They put a layer of "green jelly", which was wrapped in plastic, on my chest and strapped it in place. They explained what would happen, told me to lie still and then left the room. As they had described, the machine rotated over my chest and made all sorts of noises. There were no lights and I didn't feel a thing. They came back in 10 minutes later, I got up and dressed and we rescheduled one of my appointments in the school holidays.

I then had to wait to chat with the nurse, which tool about 10 mins. The chat, in which she told me about the possible side effects (skin turning pink like a burn and tiredness) and how to manage them (sorbolene and sleep), took all of 5-10 mins.  I drove away from hospital 1h15m after arriving. That's not the quick 20 mins I had in mind. I can see this quickly becoming a hassle, but I won't complain because it is much easier than chemo.

I had a quick lunch with Hiraani and Sue on my way to Remie's reading groups. The kids and I had a quiet afternoon before heading out to 4 Pines for dinner, courtesy of a voucher passed on by Jonesy. I enjoyed the "beer flight" that was included, though the alcohol just added to my exhaustion. It's lights out at 8.40p for me after dealing with poor Remie having another night terror. Will write tomorrow about the follow up conversation I had with Rebecca, the psychiatrist we saw Saturday last. I don't have the energy for it now.

Day 202: Other people's exercise

Alex did a triathlon this morning: 100m swim/2km bike/500m run. He came in 39th out of 80 and just over 17minutes. Not bad for a boy who isn't well. He was so keen to do it which, coming from a not-athletically-minded boy, we had to support him. The 5.50a wake up was a bit grim but well worth it.

Remie learned how to do a cartwheel today and also went from jumping rope 10 times in a row to 40 after much practice ("I will not give up"' was her mantra).  Very exciting.

My exercise consisted of watching the kids and walking to lunch. Somehow I am totally knackered (ok, the poor sleep last night might be a contributing factor). I am off to bed with a bit of a runny nose but hopes to get to the gym in the morning. I figure I have to start my comeback at some point and sooner is likely to be better than better as I continue to experience the joys of menopause.

Day 201: Exercise

I finally got moving today. I met Rach and Jenny at the pool and did 500m. Ok, it was with fins, but I was late so I needed to move quickly. I'd forgotten about my swollen calves and feet but it was all fine once I did a lap. It felt good to be moving again.

The kids followed with their swim club's "marathon swim", which involves swimming as many laps as possible in 1 hour. Rests are permitted, but getting out of the pool is not. Alex did 1.5km (after coming home from school early yesterday with a sore throat and low fever and vomiting this morning when he woke up) and Remie did1.1km. They dusted me!

I'm planning to get some amount of exercise in most every day from now on. I'm cutting myself some slack and will take 30 mins of walking. I figure my comeback has to start somewhere.

Day 200: Prep for next phase

Nothing much has changed today. I still have cankles (and can't remember where I put my compression socks), my eyes are watering slightly less and I am starting to get some inkling of taste. The recovery process is slow, but at least it's recovery.

I got some aloe Vera at the health food shop today in preparation for Monday's start of radiotherapy. I also have my iPad mini ready to go with some books for the wait and Podcasts and audio books for the drive. I'm looking forward to BBC world news and NPR.

I can feel that I'm getting near the end of the invasive and time-consuming part of treatment. In 40 days radiotherapy will be over. Then I'll go on Tamoxifen, an estrogen-blocking drug, for 5 years. At least that's just a daily pill, though it does come with some unpleasant side effects like menopausal symptoms. There will be at least one final surgery to replace my expander with a proper implant, but that's not for quite a few months. I have time to decide whether I fight to get the other breast removed.

For now I'll just focus on recovering and getting back into some regular exercise. That's enough, I think.

Day 199: Planning holidays

On this rainy and cool day I decided I needed to look forward to something so I started to organise a trip to the US in June-July. I didn't actually get much further than checking on airfares and looking into Santa Fe, Glacier National Park and nearby dude ranches, and cabins on Lake Huron in Ontario. One has to be allowed to dream.  The "family and friends" itinerary already includes Boston, Andover, Newfound Lake (NH) and Lake George in upstate NY. The booking will hopefully happen in the next week.

I also had a great catch up with Aileen, who will hopefully have her baby in the next week or so. She is going to deliver at The Mater, so we've decided I can bring her coffee and cuddle the baby while I'm there for my daily appointments. She is doing unbelievably well with her fourth pregnancy; she doesn't even have any fluid retention.

I just read that my annoying side effects (watery eyes, fluid retention, lack of taste) really can last for 3-6 months. Bummer. Oh well, at least I don't have to go back for another round next week!

Day 198: How much is in the glass?

My ankles have totally disappeared and my calves are tight. I was told this will end "sometime after chemo ends". My eyes are constantly weeping and the glass of red wine I tried tonight tasted b awful to me (but was perfectly fine). And apparently my eyelashes can fall out 3 more  times in the coming year (has to do with the growth cycle). How's that for the gift that keeps on giving?

Contrary to that not-so-uplifting news, I am feeling pretty good and I do think my glass is still at least half full.  I bounded out of bed this morning just past 6a because I wanted to for the first time in months. That was exciting.  I managed the whole morning routine solo for the first time in ages. I didn't ever think that would be so exciting. I am now very tired at 9.30p and am struggling to comprehend that this exhaustion will last up to 12 months. Time for bed.

Day 197: Demystifying cancer treatment and reaching out

In my yoga class today, my ankles disappeared.  That's right - gone.  So I can now add "fluid retention" to the list of side effects I've encountered.  Happily it doesn't seem to be causing any issues, but I will keep an eye on it.

I've been told in the past few days by a few people that I've helped them better understand what goes on through a cancer diagnosis and throughout treatment.  While that's not the reason I set out to blog, or to share my experiences in person, I am very pleased I can help make what is perceived to be an awful and scary situation more approachable.

As a corollary to that, I'd like to remind us all that showing compassion can be very powerful.  When someone you know - even if just vaguely - is facing a tragedy or terrible event in his/her life, err on the side of reaching out; it may be more helpful than you know.  I know I've struggled in my life to find the right time to approach someone or the right words to say.  Would s/he want to be bothered when dealing with a personal crisis or tragedy?  Would my reaching out be perceived as intrusion on a private experience to someone I hardly new?  I can't answer these questions for everyone, but I do know that personally I have loved every bit of communication I have received. The regular support from those closest to me has keep me going. The messages that have come from far away have touched me most - people just wanting to tell me they are thinking of me.  All of these have been incredibly uplifting.  Perhaps they've been a reminder of how many lives we touch - more than we think.  In any case, when in doubt, call or email or FB message someone; reach out in whatever way works for you to let the person know you are thinking of him/her.  The worst it will do is nothing, and you might just brighten someone's day.  Thanks to all who have brightened mine.