"But it's the LAST one," my brother said to me for the 3rd or 4th time. I think he even said it when we weren't talking about chemo at that particular moment. He was trying to wrap his head around it, just like I have been the past couple of days.
Thoughts of everything I want to do race in my head, but I have to put the brakes on and remind myself that while it WAS the last chemo, I'm not finished with treatment yet. First off, the side-effects of the chemo have to work their way out of my system. The achy-ness, the fatigue, the numbness in my hands & feet, the way things still taste a bit off. Oh, and hair. MAN, do I want hair!
But the thoughts of side-effects still don't erase the fact that I want a margarita party with everyone I know in attendance. That I want the biggest slice of chocolate silk pie you've ever seen - hell, give me the whole pie! That I want to jump in the car with my kids and travel & see everything there is to see in this wonderful nation, then the world. More than anything, I'm ready to live again, not just exist.
Now, on to the Adventures in Mammogram-Land...
When you're a woman and your doctor schedules a mammogram, your inner-voice automatically begins to whine like a petulant child - "I don't WANNA do a mammogram!!!!" Even if a mammogram has saved your life, it is still the shits. Some stranger, who feels just as awkward & nervous as you, gets to feel up your 'girls' and then put them in a vice-grip & THEN take a picture! Of all the medical tests that are out there, I believe mammograms should require dinner & drinks first. At my first mammogram this year, the tech totally agreed with me. She thought there should be tequila shots available for everyone in the waiting room, even for her.
So, Thursday, (the day after my LAST chemo!!) I had to have not one, but 2 different kinds of mammograms - double torture! After the boobie squishing, I wasn't sure there was a more uncomfortable way to check the girls. Guess what??? I found it - MRI mammograms!!! Holy beans. I'm pretty sure the CIA developed closed-MRIs as a method of torture. In a nut-shell (pun intended), it was total sensory deprivation.
This test involved everything: I had to have an IV. They forced "contrast" dye into my system. I had to lay face-down on a table and put my 'girls' in their own slots, so they're just hangin' there. They put headphones on me so I could hear 'music' to distract me. Then they rolled me back into a tiny tube.
So, there I am, poked, prodded, hangin', blind, deaf & trapped. Then the noises started. Seriously, I thought I had landed in some far-off space battle. Beeps, blasters, laser cannons - any noise you've heard in a Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica movie was coming out of that machine. Holy shit. Um...hello?? Where was the "music?" Maybe that was a bit of guitar hidden behind the alien annihilation soundtrack I was being treated to.
And the worst thing, while you're thinking you're being attacked, and you can't see, and you're still in a tube, YOU HAVE TO STAY CALM & BREATHE. WHAT??? For the love of Pete, this test sucks.
But I survived it, and am better for it. Right? Sure. Luckily, this test isn't ordered for every women, so hopefully you're escape it. My next step is radiation, which sounds like an absolute breeze compared with chemo and MRIs. Let's hope for the best. I go in on Sept. 19th to have radiation set up and get tattooed. Yep, that's right tattooed! Sucks that I had to get cancer in order to make myself get a tattoo. :) Unfortunately, it won't be anything cool, like a dragon or tramp stamp, just a couple of teeny-tiny green dots to help the radiation techs line me up in the machine each time. Boooorrrriiinnnnnggg!!!! Maybe I'll add to the collection sometime.
No comments:
Post a Comment