"Radiation therapy uses a special kind of high-energy beam to damage cancer cells. These high-energy beams, which are invisible to the human eye, damage a cell’s DNA, the material that cells use to divide. Over time, the radiation damages cells that are in the path of its beam — normal cells as well as cancer cells. But radiation affects cancer cells more than normal cells. Cancer cells are very busy growing and multiplying — 2 activities that can be slowed or stopped by radiation damage. And because cancer cells are less organized than healthy cells, it's harder for them to repair the damage done by radiation. So cancer cells are more easily destroyed by radiation, while healthy, normal cells are better able to repair themselves and survive the treatment."
Thanks, Dr. Google. Many of my loved ones have asked about XRT, the process, what it's like, etc., so here goes. Every day for 6.5 weeks, I visit the hospital at the same time. I check in, head back andget changed from the waist up in to a hospital gown, and my techs meet me to take me back to the room. I hop on this table, put my arm in the "arm stirrup" as I affectionately call it, and lay still as a statue for 15 minutes. (Yes, this is my exact table. I took the picture after XRT today!) They use lights and angles and tatoos to line up the machine exactly as the physician designed during my planning. The techs leave the room and I hear a few buzzes and clicks, and they come back in to do it all over again for the other two positions.
At first, I was a little shy about two men up close and personal with my right breast, with their faces inches away from it, drawing on it with a Sharpie pen. Then, I saw a man in the back area with his gown on, undressed from the waist down. Suddenly I realized that these XRT techs see many body parts in a day, and my boob is the least of their worries. And I get to keep my knickers on. Thank goodness for small things.
Now that I'm getting to know my XRT techs, I am starting to ask my Discovery Channel Interactive quesitons, which seems to make them chuckle, shake their head, or roll their eyes. "So, I can't see anything, and I can't feel anything, and I can't smell anything. Aside from hearing a few clicks, how am I supposed to know it's working? How do we know that something is coming out of this machine?" Apparently the computers let us know, and there are a bunch of quality assurance measures they do weekly. Fair question, no?
It is a tad cumbersome to go to the hospital every single day, but I am so blessed that I live close to the hospital, my office is only 3 miles from the hospital, and the appointment is only 15 minutes in and out. Just a week in to it, I'm already appreciating the welcoming smiles of the reception staff and nurses, and I don't even have to tell them my name when I check in. I even know the parking garage attendant by name, and every day he offers a smile and a dose of positive thinking. Today he offered "Hakuna Matata" and informed me that means "no worries." If only he knew how many times we have watched the Lion King with my mom and son! And for that reason it made me smile even more. Apparently Hakuna Matata is the best cure. I think he's on to something.
I have 6 XRT treatments down, 27 to go. I can do this.
Thanks for the sneak peek. I love your humor...and I get to keep my knickers on...hee hee!
ReplyDelete-k.
I love the parking attendant for what he said to you!
ReplyDelete