Yesterday I got a hug from one of my two favorite radiation therapists. A month of friendly care from those two kind people. And back into the unknown.
Then the nurse handed me a big surprise: For at least several days, radiation will still be in my body! Along with the redness and tenderness, it will soon fade away. Hopefully, so will the fatigue. And maybe that little sticker on my very tender nipple will just fall off in the shower so I don't have to peel it off.
There is a bell to ring at the end of radiation and a certificate of completion (which almost made me laugh - all I did was lie there.) I didn't even get to celebrate with sugary coffee because the traffic was clogged beyond hope.
When the remaining radiation is gone, nothing medical will be fighting any abnormal cells that might be lurking until or unless I start adjuvant medicine. So, my break from the parade of new doctors has to be short.
I do want to meet the radiation oncologist before my appointment with the surgeon at the end of the month. The surgeon has been my constant figure in this journey, almost since the beginning. That's been reassuring in some way.
My list of questions for the medical oncologist is not complete, not organized, maybe not even necessary. At the top of the list is rumors of fuzzy thinking. I can't, can't afford that.
From what I read, Tamoxifen is like going to the moon: probable big rewards and enough danger to make you think twice before suiting up.