Tattoos, Memories, Temple

The next time I hear someone talking about tattoos, I can proudly say, "Yeah, I've got six."

I wasn't sure I still needed radiation after getting back a clean surgical pathology report. But I met with the radiation oncologist yesterday, and after going over the pros and cons, and looking at years of studies, we decided that it would be beneficial for me to have radiation. Maybe the guy just wanted to make some money, but the studies he showed me were pretty convincing. Basically, having radiation can reduce my risk of recurrence by quite a bit. So I figured, better safe than sorry. If there is one cancer cell remaining in my chest, the radiation will vaporize it. Besides, the doctor said the radiation should make me a little tired and make my skin irritable, but that the side effects were nothing compared to chemo.

After the consultation, they took me to a room with a bit CT scan machine. Not to receive radiation, but to set up the location on my body which will be receiving radiation. I laid down on the machine, and they had to tape down my right breast (a skin expander covered with my skin, more accurately), because it was in the way. Then I had to raise my hands above my head and grip these handles (very painful... still sore from surgery).

Next they put all these metal stickers all over my chest, and marked a few spots with a felt-tip. They sent me into the CT scan machine, which, if anyone has ever been in one, it's quite creepy. Reminds me of that huge machine they built in the movie Contact - remember the scary mechanical howling sound? At least I didn't have to be dropped hundreds of feet into the ocean while encapsulated in a little metal ball. Or travel billions of miles away to visit my dead father who is actually an alien. Yes, now that I put things into perspective, a CT scan machine is harmless; relaxing even. Anyway, by the time I was done, my left arm was tingling with pain and almost numb. But I couldn't put it down yet, not until they gave me the tattoos.

A very nice girl then poked a pin into my skin in six different places, leaving a freckle-sized mark in each spot. Now when I come in for radiation, they will be able to align everything with the tattoos for accuracy.

Starting next week, I have to go in 5 days a week, for 5 weeks (25 treatments total). Which is actually great news to me, since I was expecting 6 weeks.

I am feeling great and am optimistic that I will be completely cured of this thing. I look forward to years ahead when the memories of this horrific experience will begin to fade. Right now, just thinking about some of the things I went through these last few months brings me to tears. I am no longer hurting physically, but I still remember vividly the fatigue, the pain, the fear, the helplessness. I remember how my arm looked when it was swollen from phlebitis, the yellow tint of my skin, the pleading, fearful look in my eyes every time I looked in the mirror. The shine of my scalp, the darkening of my fingernails, and the energy being sucked from my muscles. My heart pounding and my bones aching, screaming objections at the poison seeping into every cell in my body. Hearing my little boy say, "Mommy, I don't want you to die, because I love you." The aching in my heart as I watched my boys sleeping peacefully and wondered how much longer I would be able to be their mother. And worst of all, my dreams and plans for the future being ripped out of my hands and dangled over my head, while cancer taunted, "You may be able to have these, and you may not." These are the things I long to forget. I hope that with time I can forget.

The temple has been a great refuge to me. I have had more powerful, amazing experiences there in the last few months than at any other time in my life. I have felt the love of my Heavenly Father and my Savior so strongly there, and have been reminded that this life is so temporary. Our earthly bodies are so fragile, yet, they are still in God's hands. And someday this fragile body of mine will be raised to immortality, never again to succumb to illness or death. But in the meantime, I will use this fragile body to do the work the Lord has sent me here to do. I pray that he allows me to serve him for many, many years to come.