Well, crack the imaginary bottle of champagne, that’s the end of my radiation. For the past two weeks, my chest has been getting radiated. Of course, it will continue to be ‘radiated’ for another couple weeks as the treatment has its impact, but at least I won’t need to go to the hospital and lay on the table every day. If all goes well, the portion of my lung that collapsed will miraculously reanimate itself, and I’ll cough out all the gunk. The lung doctor, however, says that is unlikely. But my radiation doctor, on the other hand, says doctors are terrible at predicting their patient’s outcomes, and anything is possible.
I rather like that.
I really rather like that.
Whether or not the collapsed bit of lung decided to re-inflate, I like knowing that the doctors don’t know. Because that means there is always room for hope. Heck, I think about Sherry and what the doctors had been telling her – and look how she blew those expectations out of the water!
As my radiation doc says, who knows?
The past month has been truly exhausting. It’s contained a collapsed lobe, an ER trip, CT and X-rays, radiation treatment, a lung biopsy, fever and heaps of fatigue. But who knows? Maybe things will get better soon. I have new symptoms coming up, which frankly I don’t even want to deal with considering how tiring things have been… but who knows? This could all work out.
It’s funny though, you know. When I was first diagnosed, finishing radiation felt like a big deal. This time around it feels like – just another thing that I had to do. And chances are, there will be other things I’ll have to do in the future. I guess perspectives change when you live with a disease. It’s simply not the same as the first time being diagnosed. I see it as a long-haul marathon of pushing, resting, and pushing. I had radiation. Yep. It’s done. Yep. But will I need it again? Who knows…
One thing I do know is that it’s almost Christmas. And Christmas is my favourite holiday of the year. The music and movies, the cookies on the counter, the silly sweaters and happy faces . . . every bit of it suits me well. And this year, considering I’ve been working full time during this month of cancer drama, this year I will see the holidays as a time for myself where I don’t have to feel guilty for calling in sick. (And also when I can justify pushing back hospital appointments, so that I can enjoy the holiday!)
All I want for Christmas is a break.
And who knows? Maybe it will happen.
P.S. Best thing that happened this month, hands down, was MY HUSBAND BECOMING CANADIAN! So very proud of him.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer a few days after my one year wedding anniversary. That was a shocker. After three years NED, cancer reappeared and pushed me to stage four. This blog captures life despite cancer. With international relocations, job search drama, fighting off apartment vermin, falling deeply in love and more. Life is challenging, but nevertheless inspiring and that’s what Bumpboobs is all about. You can find me over at @Bumpyboobs on Twitter, and hey - I wrote a lovely fiction novel! - over at http://www.CatherineBrunelle.com