Yesterday, I reached a major–albeit, unsought and unwanted–milestone: my last radiation treatment. It was an emotional afternoon. Unlike Spider-Man, I chose not to take my mask home with me. But, like him and every other cancer patient treated at this center, I did ring the celebratory bell outside the waiting room when I finished. Everyone sitting nearby claps while the radiation techs and administrative staff sound noisemakers. I can’t believe I made it through the past six weeks (much less, the past five months since my diagnosis).
Several friends and family members have asked how I’ll be celebrating, and it’s frustrating to have to tell them that I’m not exactly out of the woods yet. My doctors warned me that I would probably feel the worst during the week following treatment and, so far, that’s been the case. My mouth is a swollen mess, my jaw aches, and painful new scar tissue has formed in my throat as a result of the radiation. I’ve been ordered to stay on the full (which is to say, maximum) dose of my various pain medications for the next ten days before I start to slowly wean off of them, one at a time. So a glass of champagne isn’t exactly in the cards for a while. To celebrate, I cried with my husband, came home, and took a nap.
Today, though, I feel slightly better than I did yesterday. I’m sure a large part of it is the sheer relief of knowing that this leg of the journey (which has been an arduous one) is behind me. I don’t have to go back to the hospital today at 3pm, as I have for so many miserable afternoons. I don’t have to go back tomorrow, either, or the day after that. When I think of this, it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it underwater, or under duress, for(seemingly)ever. But this is not the end. There are still follow-up appointments and scans and the attendant, agonizing period of waiting for their results before I’m officially in the clear. Remission–a word I once gave little thought to that now sounds so wonderful it has the ring of an incantation–is a long ways away. That said, I now also understand that the designation “survivor” is as much about surviving treatment–be it surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy–as it is the cancer, itself. And I survived this.
Well, then 