October 13, 2021

I’m halfway through radiation! Whoop! whoop! My skin is more pink and tight. I also have a rash. But it’s ok. Only 16 more days. I can do it! I’m thankful for getting this far.

I’m also thankful that my hair is getting to a point that it’s looking more like a chosen style and not just crew cut. I’m starting to get regular compliments, and not just on the style but the color too. I’m still not quite used to it and I’m not sure I’ll keep it this way, but it’s nice to know it’s beginning to look kind of normal.

The back seems longer.

October 11, 2021

It’s been raining off and on for days. While I know we need the rain and I’m grateful for it, I find it dreary. Today I’m thankful that there was a break in it long enough for me to get out in the yard with the pups. Well, mostly Barley because Chance hates getting his feet wet, so he waited by the door. I love when it’s wet out and the sun makes everything vibrant green. I’m thankful for the beautiful nature around us. And for the seasonal plant my mom sent me that cracks me up!

That moss…!
Our mint is still going strong.
How I feel some days!

October 10, 2021

Another weekend comes to a close. I think weekends should always be at least 3 days. One day to have fun, one day to do whatever chores are necessary, and one day to relax before the next week begins. Since that hasn’t caught on yet, I’m thankful for this Sunday of brief chores (the laundry—it’s never ending), a bit of fun (and yum!), and some relaxation (how cute is this teacup candle my mother-in-law made??)

Chance spied my pumpkin pie.

October 9, 2021

My mom and a couple of sisters went to a haunted house tonight. They asked me to go with them, but it was an hour drive and I’m now getting SO tired by 8 pm, so I was afraid it would be a hard drive back home. I did however, meet them during the day to do a bit of shopping. It was a last minute decision, and I’m glad I did. I’m thankful to be able to see them more regularly now.

October 8, 2021

So, I hate to keep wishing my weeks away, but it’s Friday!! Yay! So happy for that.

Last weekend, Chance started limping. We don’t know what happened that would have caused it. (Except he runs at full speed until he’s about 2 inches from something when he puts on the breaks, sometimes sliding to a stop.) He had no visible cuts or anything, so it’s been concerning. When Barley started limping, it ended up being a torn ACL, which was a very involved and expensive surgery. Both times.

We finally got Chance into the vet today, and thankfully, it appears to be a pulled muscle or something equally mild. We need to keep him from doing too much running and jumping and it should heal on its own. Whew! It’s so difficult with pets that don’t wince or whine or give any indication they’re in pain, but you know they are. Poor pup.

He’s a silly a
sleeper.

October 6, 2021

Work has been trying lately and today was extra difficult. Although I don’t always agree with decisions or like what’s going on, I still want to do a good job, so it’s frustrating when other people actively make that difficult. Usually I try to be generous with work colleagues and not take things too personally. Today was not that day. Therefore I’m thankful for being able to vent to folks who don’t judge my colorful language and who try to help find solutions. It’s good to have people to help talk you down.

October 5, 2021

Radiation normally happens like this:

I lay on the table with my left arm up and my head tilted right and the techs line my tattoos up to red and green light markers that shine down from the ceiling. The table I lay on moves up and down and front to back. If I’m off from side to side, then they slowly pull the sheet under me while reminding me not to help. Everything is adjusted in millimeters. Once I’m lined up, I have to take a deep breath in and hold it so they can take a computer snapshot for reference. Then they leave the room. The machine arm above me moves slightly to the right and I can hear and see the screen adjusting for the beam. Soon I can hear the nurse telling me to take a deep breath and hold it, and the machine turns on. There is no light, only sound and it lasts 20-25 seconds. When the sound stops, I know I can breathe again before they tell me I can.

Then the techs come back in because they need to put a towel and “bolus” on me, which is a sheet of rubbery material that is supposed to make up for my lost breast tissue. We have to do another deep breath snapshot and sometimes tape the bolus down to make sure it doesn’t slip. If all looks well, then they leave and the machine rotates further to the right. We do two deep breath holds in this position, each shorter than the initial one. The sound changes on these. The first is higher pitched than the second. When they’re done, the machine moves over me and around way to the left. If the bolus has moved, the techs come back in and we do another adjustment. If the bolus hasn’t moved with my breathing, we do one more round here and we’re done. By this time, my arm aches and my hand is numb because through it all, I can’t move. Once, without thinking, I crossed my feet in between rounds and they had to completely readjust me.

Today, as we finished the second one on the right, the machine didn’t move. I lay still, waiting. And waiting. Finally, a tech comes in and says the sensor is acting up and she needs to move it manually. It moves in spurts. Finally, it’s in position and she leaves. We continue. I take a deep breath and hold but there is no sound. Soon they tell me I can breathe but not move. I wait. Eventually, they come back in and say the machine still isn’t working correctly and they called someone in to look at it. They ask my doctor about adding the last round to tomorrow’s treatment while the machine is being checked.

Ultimately, I’m given the option to wait for the machine to reboot or have one more round tomorrow. At that point, I said it didn’t matter, so we wait the 11 minutes for a reboot. The manager comes in to apologize and explain what’s going on. We make small talk and after another readjustment, we are ready to go. Only we don’t.

After all that, the machine wasn’t fixed, so I have to have an extra round tomorrow. I’m assuming the machine will be fixed overnight. I’m not loving the idea that my health is dependent upon this fallible machinery, but here we are. The curtain has been pulled back. Now I know it’s not magic. But you know what I’m thankful for? The device is so precise that it won’t work if it’s not right. That my techs are not only skilled, but legitimately nice. That we were almost done, so I can make it up tomorrow without issue. Fingers crossed this was the only blip I’ll have going forward.