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Friday, January 28, 2011

One Down...Fifteen Frys To Go

I can't say why I was so intimidated but by the time Homer, Barry and I got to the Cancer Clinic today at 1:45, I was an emotional mess. Maybe because I have been enjoying all the freedom of having my health back since the past two ordeals of surgeries and chemo. It's such a mind screw to be so alive but know that you're headed back down that road of trying to fend off what's being done to your body in order to save your life.
I know this is the best thing to do and I am confident that I have prepared myself. I have been extremely careful with my diet, trying to avoid 90+% of the sugars, caffeine, alcohol and high glycemic foods. I am taking all the vitamins and protective herbs recommended by the Naturopath and have remained active each and every day. I am ready to receive as much radiation as they dare without damaging the good cells to the point of extinction.
But every treatment comes with some risks and you wonder if you will be the one in a thousand that grows the third arm. I worry that I will move and the radiation will hit my heart, pierce my lung or scar me for ever. So much has gone sideways that I trust nothing.

So, I am sorry to admit there were big alligator tears that coursed down my cheeks as I lay beneath that daunting machine with my right arm twisted high beside me. Breast bared. Whirring noises. Clicks. Alone. The techs hid behind a glass wall and pushed buttons. I felt like I was at the bottom of a tall barrel. I wanted my mother. I wanted an ice cream cone. I wanted whatever it was that would make all of this go away.

I need my normal life back and to do that, I have to lie on that metal stretcher and let that scary Wizard of Oz contraption do what it can for me, fifteen more times.

I am home at my Uncle's beautiful house. I am having a small glass of red wine after Barry reminds me of our friend that died of brain cancer last year being mad that she had spent so much time dieting and denying herself anything that she wanted for the past five years. It's time to shake off the funk and get back to the land of the living attitude. Cheers.

I now have the weekend "off" and resume treatments on Monday. That should be enough time to pull myself back up by the bootstraps. One treat at a time. I'm thinking take-out dinner and a movie.
I am going to be so spoiled after all this that my normal life is going to be hard to get used to. But I'll take it. In a flash!