Fade Away and Radiate*

Fade Away and Radiate*

We had a wonderful Christmas. Really great. Just stayed in, as I was recovering (again) from surgery. Finally, the mastectomy is finished. (Why have one surgery when you can have four?) I was just happy to be alive. It actually seemed as if the previous Christmas had only been a few months prior. Where did that year go?  I realized that I hadn’t been so sure that I’d be around for this Christmas. I suppose that was a subconscious thought all along. Wow. Grateful.

I was going to write an entry immediately after Christmas about my J.P. drain coming apart. I even had a catchy title ready: “MERry Christmas,” with the E and the R capitalized, as in Emergency Room. Yep, that’s right. Christmas night in the E.R., ladies and gentlemen. A first for us. The tube had detached from the drain bottle, which I hadn’t even realized could happen. Turns out that they are, actually, two distinct parts. After my infection/sepsis horror of last spring, I was a little freaked out, so off to the E.R. we went. Turns out that it wasn’t as big a deal as I had thought and they merely reconnected it. I was imagining the worst; that they'd have to surgically put in a new sterile one.  It actually detached a couple more times during the THREE WEEKS I had to wear it (UGH – there’s another tale of woe. LOL). I was so grateful to have that thing removed. Well, actually, it kinda’ removed itself. No, really. I had nothing to do with it.

January’s thrill (besides no longer having to wear a little drain bottle of yuck) was finally getting a prosthesis and a bra in which to put it. What a relief as, let me tell you, the socks weren’t working AT ALL. It had gotten to the point where I didn’t even want to leave the house. Vain, I know. No one’s looking at your boobs as much as you yourself are. Usually, that is. So nice now to just get dressed and GO as normal people do.

And now…(drum roll, please) The Next Hurdle…

So, I went to the Radiation Oncologist last week, confident that I wouldn’t need radiation. He thought, although everything looked clear, that it would be prudent to have a 6-week course of 28 treatments- just to be sure.

Wow. 

What a blow that was! I nearly burst into tears right there in his office. So that’s going to start within the next week or so. I’m really NOT looking forward to the side effects. I don’t want to be tired. I don't want fried skin. I don't want...I want to get things DONE. I want to get busy earning some money, etc. (*sigh*).

I seem to be having some PTSD-like symptoms lately, wherein all that has occurred over the last 19 months seems to be finally catching up to me. Many people told me I was brave. I don’t think it was bravery. I think it was a sense of unreality, of compartmentalization, of perhaps observing from afar what was, in fact, happening to me directly.

There was only one other time when I nearly lost it. That was a few months ago while digging through the PILE of cancer paperwork I have stored in a box and  having ALL OF THAT history smack me in the face, figuratively. Dear God, to look at all of those Dr. referrals and test results and hospitalization reports was just…overwhelming. It dawned on me that all of that hadn’t happened to someone else, but to me. How horrible. 

So now I face another challenge. Stay tuned.

*Blondie, “Fade Away and Radiate,” Parallel Lines album, 1978, Written by Christ Stein