False alarm
This cancer treatment is a bloody long journey. Today is exactly 6 months ago that Dr. S.B. told me the news. Since then, I've been cut, prodded, poisoned and now measured for frying. I just hope the treatment works. It's a bloody long haul. I've had enough.
All last week I was feeling in limbo, getting ready for the frying pan. This Monday morning I was a royal mess, having hysterics. So, what happens? Either it was not explained clearly, or I simply forgot (which happens quite a lot lately - putting it down to chemo brain), but this was just a one hour procedure to measure where they were going to irradiate the breast. They took a CAT-scan and marked up the body, as well as putting in 4 tattoos (black dots) to have as (permanent) markers.
I think I have already opined about the impersonality of large machines and my tendency to tune out and go into a meditative state where I can observe what's happening around me, but you would have to address me directly to get an answer.
Well, here I was in meditative Nirvana, with at least 6 technicians buzzing around, only two of whom explained what they were doing, and the woman with the long hair, who turned out to be the Registrar, didn't even bother to say boobah to me. Now, that would have been bearable, but I don't recall Dr S.P. saying howdy either, which was a great surprise, since she always impressed me as a warm human being. Maybe it was the big cold machine that changed all that.
The upshot of it all is that I have to wait another long week before the radiation treatment starts next Monday afternoon – another week of the blahs. I don't seem to be able to get up much oomph. Maybe I should check my thyroid level. All I can really focus on is the cross-stich, electronic solitaire and old movies. I do read, but in concentrated spurts, so, the rest of the time just floats by. It reminds me of the time in 1964 when I was under sedation for concussion for 6 weeks (car accident) and all I could do was knit and listen to rock music. It drove me crazy then and it's doing the same now. I don't do well with long inactivity, I guess.
So, what am I going to do? Well, I am going for a swim and possibly a long walk as well. Maybe the fog will clear. I think it's still the effect of the Tamoxifen. Last night my legs went into a spasm again and really hurt. After the swim, I'll get going on the US taxes, which are due mid-April. Which reminds me, I still haven't finished the Australian accounting stuff that I've been trying to finish since February! Time marches on!
All last week I was feeling in limbo, getting ready for the frying pan. This Monday morning I was a royal mess, having hysterics. So, what happens? Either it was not explained clearly, or I simply forgot (which happens quite a lot lately - putting it down to chemo brain), but this was just a one hour procedure to measure where they were going to irradiate the breast. They took a CAT-scan and marked up the body, as well as putting in 4 tattoos (black dots) to have as (permanent) markers.
I think I have already opined about the impersonality of large machines and my tendency to tune out and go into a meditative state where I can observe what's happening around me, but you would have to address me directly to get an answer.
Well, here I was in meditative Nirvana, with at least 6 technicians buzzing around, only two of whom explained what they were doing, and the woman with the long hair, who turned out to be the Registrar, didn't even bother to say boobah to me. Now, that would have been bearable, but I don't recall Dr S.P. saying howdy either, which was a great surprise, since she always impressed me as a warm human being. Maybe it was the big cold machine that changed all that.
The upshot of it all is that I have to wait another long week before the radiation treatment starts next Monday afternoon – another week of the blahs. I don't seem to be able to get up much oomph. Maybe I should check my thyroid level. All I can really focus on is the cross-stich, electronic solitaire and old movies. I do read, but in concentrated spurts, so, the rest of the time just floats by. It reminds me of the time in 1964 when I was under sedation for concussion for 6 weeks (car accident) and all I could do was knit and listen to rock music. It drove me crazy then and it's doing the same now. I don't do well with long inactivity, I guess.
So, what am I going to do? Well, I am going for a swim and possibly a long walk as well. Maybe the fog will clear. I think it's still the effect of the Tamoxifen. Last night my legs went into a spasm again and really hurt. After the swim, I'll get going on the US taxes, which are due mid-April. Which reminds me, I still haven't finished the Australian accounting stuff that I've been trying to finish since February! Time marches on!
Labels: breast cancer
posted by Unknown at 8:24 AM
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