Today almost marks the end of week four. That means I have one more Chemo and seven days left of Radiation! I can’t believe how quickly it all went. Days have melded into weeks, and a month has flown by as the breath of winter stopped tormenting us with its cool kiss and the sweet song of spring has been lilting in the air.
I often think that this happened at a good time. I hibernated through the worst of it, and as the end of treatment draws near, I can embrace spring with open arms and an open heart.
I met with my radiologist yesterday and we spoke about what is to ‘happen’ after the end of my treatment. He said that the next step is Brachiotherapy, where they implant a small device into my cervix and I spend two series of two days and one night in the hospital, where this little gadget will perform close range, directed internal radiation right onto the tumour. Dr Milosovic said that it is incredible technology, and it will be the final nail in the coffin to cure my poor, dilapidated cervix.
I asked him what the steps were after that, and when the likelihood of another surgery would be. He looked at me with the most confused, questioning look in his sparkling grey eyes, and he said, “Karmen, this is the treatment to cure. This is what this treatment has been all about. It is very unlikely you will need any type of surgery after this, it will simply…. be cured.” He had such resounding strength and conviction in his answer, that it make my heart skip a beat. I am so elated to hear such wonderful news.
Apparently during the Brachiotherapy, I have a CT and MRI before hand, to see the progress of my tumour, and during both 2 day stints, they are constantly imaging and monitoring the tumour. Lots of diagnostic imaging, he said that this would happen maybe at one or two other places in the entire world, and I am incredibly lucky, which I recognize.
Then I wait three months and get a scan, and we will see what happens then, but I am very hopeful that this will be the end of it. And if not, I trust that they will do whatever needs to be done to make me healthy again in the fastest, safest, smartest way possible.
I met a lady in the chemo waiting room yesterday, and it broke my heart. She was telling me the heart wrenching story of how her son is 26 and has leukaemia, and he is not doing so well. He is fighting the treatment and not taking his meds, he is very depressed and isolated, and he is already a year and a half in. I feel blessed with my short stint for recovery, and I am beyond grateful for the support from my fiancé and loving friends and family. I think positivity helps you heal, and I am well on the way. I gave her as many kind words as I could, and she cried and we had a nice moment. She tried to get him to talk to me as well but he was tired and sad and didn’t want to, which I respect. I pray for him and his family.
On a gross note, the weirdest side effect happened to me. I grew a little patch on my bikini area to “gourd my loins” from the dreaded lasers. LOL I knoooow it makes no sense, and is ridiculous but I felt like it would help protect my skin from the radiation. Yesterday I pulled my pants down to pee, and there was a world of little hairs in my underwear. I was like, “What the f*c& is that?” You have no idea how confused I was for a second. Well, it turns out that all of that zapping made my little patch of hair fall right out as if you were plucking feathers from a chicken. I, of course, yelled “SAROOOOOOO!!!!” and he came running to see if I was alright. “LOOK!!” I exclaimed, “Look how weird and gross this is!”
“Jesus, girl!” He said to me, “You never have any hair down there anyways, why do you care that it’s falling out? On the bright side, maybe it will never come back!”
That was my TMI for the day. I told my mom and she thought it was hilarious and told me that i “Must blog about that” – Apparently people like the gross stuff, 😉
My last chemo is next week and they told me that there is a bell that I get to ring once i’m done my last treatment. I am so excited to bang that damn bell and let my poor purple veins enjoy some time without Cisplatin running through them. I think I may even yell “FREEEEEEDOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!” and make a graceful exit.
Sorry for the lack of blogging, but I’ve been studiously and relentlessly working away at my book. It’s getting easier page by page and I can’t wait to get my story out there.
Wishing you a wonderful afternoon and lots of LOVE!!