Wrapping Up the Threat of Cancer

If you’ve been following my cancer odyssey, you know my journey through the healthcare system has been labyrinthian and needlessly frustrating. However, I am thrilled to report that not only am I now getting excellent care, but I’m also coming to the end of my cancer ten K.

This has not been a marathon by any means. I know people who are right now running their own cancer marathons, and my race doesn’t come close to what they’re experiencing, such as chemotherapy, its awful side effects, and the threat of continuing health challenges or even death.

That said, I never took my cancer lightly, and have emerged from the experience with a new appreciation and understanding of what it means to know there’s something inside you that could kill you if left unchecked. I have always enjoyed excellent physical health, so this was a wake up call and nudge to not take my body and its abilities to heal for granted.

The University of California-Irvine Chao Cancer Center (the Chao family has given over $50 million to UCI over the years in the study of cancer) is a state of the art facility outside of Orange, California. It opened just last year, and, at least from my initial experience there, it is well run and comprehensive.

Everyone working at the center is upbeat and….happy. Each time I go there, I’m struck by the laughter and lightness in all its workers. Everyone I encounter tells me their first name, why they’re part of my treatment and what to expect. They pile warm blankets on me, ask me if I’m comfortable, put on soothing music - I may as well be at a health spa!

My first brachytherapy (a type of radiation) treatment was last Thursday. UCI had done an MRI a few days before to try and get a glimpse of any cancer cells, and my doctor told me the MRI looked clear. She did another pelvic exam (she had done one at our first appointment), and also said everything looked normal with the naked eye. But, cancer cells being the unpredictable little toadies that they are, spraying them with a few cautionary doses of radiation just to be sure they’ve vacated the premises was the plan for the next few days.

Eugenia, the assistant who I had met at my initial appointment with my brachytherapist, sticks with me for each of my appointments. For the first one, she explained that five doctors are involved in the placement of the radiation wand and subsequent radiation blast, and they all have to agree on that blast area before the treatment can proceed. As a result, that day I was there for about four hours.

First, I undressed from the waist down, hopped on the dreaded stirrup table, and the doctor came in and inserted the wand, which is the vehicle that sends the radiation into the vagina and vaginal cuff area. That was the most painful and uncomfortable part, as it's a fairly large object, but the pain dissipates quickly once it’s seated. Then I’m wheeled to a CAT scan, which is taken at every appointment to compare each treatment and start the measurement process. After that, the various docs study the situation and this is when agreement is critical, and why it can take a while. Eugenia kept giving me updates on how that was going.

Finally, I was wheeled into the brachytherapy treatment room where they hooked up the wand inside of me to the radiation source. Then the doctors leave the room to monitor the procedure from another location, and I’m left alone for about ten minutes. There is soft rock music playing in the room.

After that, I was wheeled back to my outpatient room, the payload applicator was removed, I called my husband Larry, and walked out. First day done!

We drove to downtown Orange, a darling little area of shops and restaurants, to celebrate, and found a restaurant that specialized in crepes. Then we walked around, peaking in shops, looking at the cute antique stores, and generally having fun.

I was getting good treatment at last. They were very optimistic. I had a future, and I could relax about the quality of care and information I was getting. Life was good again.

Since then, I've had a second treatment, and am spending the day sleeping or watching/listening to broadcasts. There is no energy for anything else. The daily two mile walks I take with Larry will have to wait a few days or more, let alone getting back to running, something I miss terribly.

With every turn in our existence, there are positives. I see my life as a complete gift, one that has become more precious and fantastical, and is replete with opportunities. I look forward to exploring the creative possibilities that will include love, surprise, and new solutions.