Sunday, July 25, 2010

Radiation - have lost track of how many treatments

I read a quote the other day that really hit me, 'Tough times don't last, tough people do'. It made me realise that if I can make it through this, I can make it through anything.

Radiation continues to go well and the upper left quadrant of my body continues to brown. I will need to even up the tan when radiation is finished - I am thinking a tropical island with cocktails! My annoying little cold has turned into a chest infection and I sound like a man, but I was also told the man voice could also be caused my inflammation of my voice box due to the radiation. I hope it is the chest infection because I don't want to sound like a man for the next few weeks. However, I would prefer to sound like a man than have blisters or an itchy rash, so if man voice is the only side effect of radiation, I will take it! I am still feeling pretty good, but I am not sure because I am not feeling the chest infection, or that compared to how I have felt for the first seven months of this year a chest infection is insignificant!

I took my half tan and man voice to the rugby on Saturday. I am feeling less achy and not so tired, so it was great to be out and not feel like I am dragging myself around. It was great being out again, watching the rugby with a rum in hand. It almost felt like my old self, almost. I was talking to a guy and he noticed the scar from my portacath and asked what it was from. He guessed that it was either a lung or heart operation. Since the scar is high on the right side of my chest, I don't think his command anatomy was great.

I woke up Sunday morning feeling very tired and conceded that I was sick, so spent most of the day in bed - just like a real hangover! I dragged myself out of bed to take Barney to the dog park, which I thought would be a quick half an hour outing. In the space of five minutes he was covered in mud and looked like a golliwog. The only clean part of his body was the top of his head, so I had to make a stop by the dog wash on the way home. I dragged myself home and spent the rest of the night on the couch and slept for about 10 hours last night. I have to realise that whilst I might feel ok, I am still recovering from a pretty traumatic eight months and I have to slowly get back into life - not just jump in at the deep end! I have to remind myself that recovery is a process not an event.

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