So, when a patient enters the Radiation Department they are required to hand over their appointment book to the staff and walk around to the waiting room. This wing of the hospital is all new. It's flash as. In the waiting room, patients may sit and stare at each other, chat with their BYO support person, read magazines (supplied), wash their hands with disinfectant as often as they like or knit (knitting needles and wool supplied).
My time in the waiting room allowed me to see other cancer patients undergoing treatment. This is always a great way to get some perspective on my own "troubles". There sat a man whose lips were blistered. The skin around his lips, and particularly on one side of his face, was red raw. There is no way that man is able to talk, eat, swallow, or even smile without some severe pain. I can definitely be grateful that treatment, for me, will not be debilitating. Tonight, I knit as I waited to be called in for my rads. The nurse informed me that once sufficient knitting had occurred that she sews all the pieces together. The final product is then donated to St Vincent de Paul. I felt happy to be contributing to the knitting box.
The department is so well run. Everything seems to have been considered. Tonight, the husband was able to come into the room where the rads are delivered. The radiographer explained how the laser worked and was prepared to answer any questions we threw at her. What a fortunate little Aussie I am to be receiving such top treatment!
Yesterday, when I returned home from my first treatment, I was sure that I could feel a tingling sensation in my right breast. I am told that it is not until week two of treatment that the effects are seen and felt. Is it all in my head? Am I an attention seeker? Who knows. Actually, the doctor probably could answer those questions. But, there is no way I am willing to ask. If it is in my head, I will feel pretty silly. The doctor will think I am an attention seeker. Don't want that.
As I held onto the bars (hands above head) and the laser positioned itself, for the first time, I was having reservations about doing this to my body. Would you like your breast tissue burnt? Yes, please. What was I thinking? Shall we strap you down? No thanks, I'll willingly sit still for it to happen. Is this the right thing to do? Anyway, the fact remains that as I received my treatment (although not so much today) I was wondering whether I really wanted to be burnt. Too late. I've received it. It is burning the cancer. Move on. But...
I have now completed Day 2 of my Whole30. So, the rules are, for thirty-days, no sugar, gluten, legumes, dairy or grains. This basically means nothing processed. We've been doing this as a family for eight months. We are loving the results and intend to maintain this way of eating for the rest of our lives. Here's what the family (including two children) ate today:
Snack: Coconut Bark
Dinner: Rissoles and veggies
I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I don't mind having to drive to the hospital. It's too early to be complaining about the half hour trip. And, since the rads aren't going to be too different, (I don't think), from day to day, I might actually get to share about other stuff: the novel I am in the process of writing, being a paleo family, how I ate away cancer and raising children. See ya!