Radiation sessions for this crazy party are officially complete. I like to think they made an example out of this group—showing the others that we’re not putting up with any nonsense.
In case you missed: I think of every lesion and tumor as a party. The party in my hip got a bit out of hand and needed the authorities to come in and get it back under control.
The rad tech asked me if I was excited to be done. I told her, “I don’t get excited anymore because there’s always something else.” That’s the reality—this is my life now. And honestly, I’m glad she doesn’t understand that. Hopefully, she never will.
As I walked out of the dressing room, rocking the ever-fashionable patterned house dress, I noticed a woman sitting there. She had clearly been through chemo and was finishing her radiation. But what struck me most was the fear on her face.
Being me, I sat down and asked, “What are you in for?”
“Breast cancer,” she said. Stage 2.
She told me how it feels like it will never end, how she’s starting meds next week, and how heavy the fear sits on her. I could feel it radiating off her—stress, anxiety, uncertainty. And I remembered exactly what that felt like in the beginning. When everything is new. Unknown. Terrifying.
I listened. I empathized. And I tried, in whatever small way, to reassure her. Maybe my outlook helped her feel just a little less alone in that moment.
Later, as I got into my car, I noticed her still sitting in hers. I walked over, gave her my number, and told her if she ever needs someone to vent to, I’m here.
I feel so deeply for the newer cancer people. It’s such a frightening start—you can’t help but think your life is over, that death is waiting just around the corner. But with time, with knowledge, with experience… the fear softens. The unknown becomes manageable. And slowly, you start to breathe again. But it never goes away…ever.
Yes, this is my reality: the parties keep coming. But I’ve learned how to walk in, take a seat, and own the damn room—even when the authorities have to step in.
ment I took makes it. I honestly didn’t know how to take that? I mean that’s kinda scary. I have to think she meant that they had to break the treatment up some or change chemo drugs. Go me. Wow. Oh. I honestly have no idea how to react to that. Just glad I didn’t know the odds before hand.
Fatigue has been up and down. For the most part I’m able to get in 3-4 days at the gym. So I do my cardio for 35 minutes then some core strenthening and then stretching. Once I’m done with radiation and my energy comes up a bit I’m going to start yoga a few times a week. Once I get the core stronger and my full range of motion back then I’ll add weights. All this working out though radiation is just to keep my energy up so I can make it through. I’m not trying to get buff or anything at this point. This whole process is just going to be baby steps. Slow and steady. And just stay on my own mat.
Welcome to the last phase of treatment!! Yes I will be starting an additional anti hormone drug in November. But this will be the last treatment I have to physically go in and have something done to me over time. And to commemorate this I will be parking in front of the “Fire tree” in the garage. So Radiation! I have 32 sessions left after today. (33 in total) They never add and they will not release me early. Evidently there is this magic number of 33 they come up with that gives the best results with doing the least damage. If I miss one due to weather or because I need to take a break due to skin issues they tack those to the end. 
Then I met my radiology team. There are 5 of them. I lay down on my back on the cool machine and they get me all lined up against all my awesome tattoos. They drew some lines on my chest. Evidently they will draw these lines every day. The theory is they come off in the shower…so they will know!!!! LOL Anyway, They took some pictures of my chest and finally zapped me. They do the top side and then the back side. So they radiate the entire area every day. Then they put this thing on my chest (not sure what it’s called yet…I’m sure I’ll learn more over the next few weeks). This pad on my chest is to force a concentration of radiation to the specific tissue where Cruella was. That was it.





