As of tomorrow I will be 50% of the way through my microwave chapter. It is a quick daily ritual in the Windansea radiation room in La Jolla, watching green lines stretch across the ceiling and walls as I am aligned just right for each zap, guided by the micro-dot tattoos that I now have. I lie very still and count four specific sounds that come from further away, mixed in with other sounds of moving equipment. After the last, the machine rotates away and I am released. Once a week x-rays are included, which become six of the specific sounds. Since September with all the scans and treatments, it seems as if I have received a Chernobyl dosage of radiation.
But I now focus upon the reality that in less than a month, I will be DONE.
At times it is deeply surreal that cancer has happened to me and that I am now up close and personal with the frightening vocabulary of chemo and radiation. But then I only have to look in the mirror to be reminded that oh yeah, it did really happen.
I am still working on hatching hair. Although it did not fall out on my head, chemo affected the regrowth rate with the top now over two inches while lower areas are under an inch. But it’s really starting to kick in and feels like a carpet when I run my hand over it. I subsequently lost eyebrows and my eyelashes are now scarcer and crazily crooked, making mascara application a ridiculous mess. I hope they come back. And so far there has been little collateral damage with radiation.
I am finally closing in on an end to a nightmare that rocked my world.
It has seemed like forever but the impossible is nearing.
It is almost a wrap.