I attended
Radiotherapy sessions Monday to Friday for three weeks. After the first week
the process seemed to settle into a routine, it was less unknown. Still very
traumatic and I had a sense of I just wanting to get this done. I was very tired
after each session. It was an overwhelming fatigue that meant I always slept
for a few hours afterwards. Fatigue is a common side effect from radiotherapy
both at the time and also in the longer term. This is what I struggled with at the time and continue to do so.
Another common
side effect is skin burns and damage. I was issued with Diprobase cream on my
first attendance. I was encouraged by the Radiographers to apply this twice a
day to the area being exposed to the radiation. This was to keep the skin
moisturised and reduce the severity of the skin burns. I chose to be extra vigilant
and apply the cream three times daily. Each time a tube of cream ran out I
asked for a replacement from the staff. After the first week one of the
Radiographers questioned why I was using so many tubes. I explained how I was
using it. I think she thought I was stockpiling it to sell it on! She suggested I didn’t need to use it as often
(think I may have been costing too much money). I ignored this advice (bloody
minded as ever) and continued my routine. After my treatments were complete my
skin was in really good condition. (As mentioned in
previous posts, I continued to take 2 eggs daily, extra chicken and fish to
vastly increase my protein consumption as recommended by my Surgeon). The
Radiographers were surprised at the lack of redness or skin breaks. All I can
say is it’s all about the Dipro…….base!!! (no burning).
During one of
my final sessions I was being escorted from the waiting area into the clinical
room. As I was walking through someone rang the bell. This hangs in the waiting
area and once you complete your last session you can ‘ring
the bell’. (Those waiting in the area give you a round of applause). For
some reason this time the significance of this really hit me. It totally threw
me off my guard. Maybe I had become so relaxed and blasé about being there,
that I had let my protective guard down.
I went into
the clinical room trying to hold back my tears. As I lay on the couch, arms up
round my head, boob(s) exposed I started to cry. Once in this position I was to
remain perfectly still, I was unable to wipe away the tears and my
vulnerability and the entire situation crashed onto me. I couldn’t stop the
tears despite all my controlled breathing techniques! (squares).
At the end of
the session the student Radiographer came in and told me the session was
complete and I could move. I hastily tried to wipe away the tears before she
could see, but I looked a puffy faced mess. She was so kind and empathetic; she
reassured me that it was ok to be upset. She showed me more humanity than any
of the qualified staff had up to that point….. I told her I was just tired and rushed
out of the room. I just wanted to get a hug from my husband Craig and go home. I went over to collect
my chauffeur for the day (Craig). As we were leaving, the Radiographer who had
been dealing with me that day asked if he could speak to me in private. He
explained that he was aware I was upset (the student had informed him) and if I
needed any support or advice there was a support service I could avail of. He was
so kind and helpful, I was incredibly embarrassed to be honest, I was just so
very tired and drained both physically and mentally that my coping skills had
temporarily disappeared, all because of that damn bell.
On the day
of my final radiotherapy session I chose not to ring the bell, I didn’t feel
strong enough to do something so dramatic. I walked past it on my way out and
said ‘bong’ quietly to myself and Craig…
I had finished……….
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