Radiation 18/35

Not such a good day.

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The radiation is really starting to take its toll on my skin. My right nipple is significantly darker than my left, and my entire breast feels heavy. I am developing a red, spotty rash from above my nipple to into my armpit. Meanwhile, I have vitiligo in my armpit, so the radiation has made it very red and tender, like a sunburn. Unlike a sunburn, the redness and soreness do not go away. In fact, I learned from my tech today that my skin woes are really only just starting – they will get worse, and continue to worsen even after I am through with radiation (June 9). So essentially I am looking at my skin darkening, burning, and possibly (likely) blistering and opening before this is all over, which really won’t be until the end of June.

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I am tired. Not fatigue-tired, thankfully – that hasn’t hit me yet, though I am sure it will. I am mentally tired. I am tired of fighting this enemy that I can’t see or feel. I am tired of waging war on my own body to combat something that may or may not even be there. It has been 7 long months since my first surgery, and I have mostly stayed positive, but today, as I lay on the table, holding those fucking pegs, I thought to myself, “What if I just died? If something killed me, then I wouldn’t have to do this anymore.” I don’t mean suicidal, though I have been there – I mean just, I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to face one more day of self-harm for a result I may or may not see. And my friend, her mother went through all this shit – surgery, chemo, radiation – and guess what? She just had a tumor removed from her spine. Metastasis. So is this worth it? I really don’t know.

I want to quit. Just say, fuck this, I have done enough, been through enough. There is only so much the human mind, spirit, and body can handle, and I am at my limit. When you start to think death is a preferable alternative, I think it’s safe to say you’ve used up your reserves and are pretty much at the end of your rope.

But then I talk to my breast surgeon, who tells me he doesn’t ever think I am going to deal with this cancer again. And I talk to my Mom, who offers words of sympathy and encouragement. And I talk to my husband, who makes me dinner and takes the kids up for their bath so I can write it out. And I talk to the ladies in my Facebook cancer group – some of whom have been through this and come out the other side, some of whom are facing it head on right now, just like me – and they offer words of camaraderie and praise. And I realize: this will be all right. I will be all right.

So yeah. Things suck today. But I’ll go back tomorrow, and every damned day until I’m done, and I’ll suffer and have bad days but in the end it will be behind me and if the cancer does come back, at least I know I can say I did everything I could.

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