Still cancer on my liver,
still pain with no relief and, having had surgery and chemo, the doctor had no
further solutions. Of course, I prayed about it and it happened that my husband
and I had lunch with our pastor and wife shortly after. In the course of our
conversation the pastor asked if we had any concerns he could pray about for
us. The cancer and pain always on my mind I brought up that. “Have you looked
into radiation?” he asked.
“My oncologist believes it wouldn’t
give me any relief so, no, I haven’t considered it.”
“There’s a doctor in our
church who does radiation. You might consult him and see what he thinks,” he
said.
Thinking about our
conversation awhile later, I decided it couldn’t hurt to check into it. I made
an appointment and off I went for a consultation. The upshot of it was the good
doctor believed radiation might help. There were no guarantees of course, but
hope appeared on the horizon. The doctor prescribed a six-week course, five
days a week for the treatment. My first Monday there, on a sunny day in March,
I felt some trepidation but also felt ready to give it a try and go for it.
The nurse ushered me into a
changing room where I removed my upper clothing and put on a hospital gown then
off to the radiation room we went. They had me lay on a bed, a fairly
comfortable apparatus but looming overhead looking down at me was a huge
machine like a big eye. They measured and poked and prodded and measured some more
than marked, with a permanent marker, an “X” on the site of the cancer on my
liver where the radiation would be trained.
Next, everyone left the room
except me, of course, and as they left they admonished me to “lie still.” I was
agreeable to that but the telling thing that settled in my brain was no one
else was in the room. I suppose radiation treatment is a miracle of science and
there are probably some good things about it, but too much. . . Well, over my lifetime I’ve had
more than my share of it so when the lights go out, just plug me in and I’ll
light up the room (just kidding.)
The huge machine aimed at my
“X”, zapped me for fifteen to twenty minutes then they sent me back to get
dressed and sent me on my way. As I left, I mused that I had no pain, no after
effects. I felt just as I did when I walked in the door.
Just in case you’re
wondering—about the middle of the third week I realized there were effects and I was feeling them. I
drug myself home and immediately had to lie down and rest. The next week I was
dragging and I noticed my mind didn’t work as well as it usually did. I worked
at Front Range Community College during this time and one day asked my boss, “Does
it seem to you that I’m slower and my mind isn’t working like it did?” He said,
“Well, I didn’t want to mention it but since you’ve brought it up, yes, I’ve
noticed that. But,” he continued,
“when you’re through with the radiation treatments, I’m sure you’ll bounce
back.”
That encouraged me and I
needed that. I hoped he was right. The last week of treatment I took most of it
as sick leave and the last couple of days a friend drove me back and forth to
the medical facility as I was incapable of driving. I could barely change my
clothes and dress myself afterwards.
The good news was I had the
weekend to rest up and regain my strength. Still dragging some I went to work
on the following Monday. The bad news was the radiation gave me only about
eight to nine months relief from the pain then I was right back where I
started.
Did you know constant pain
is wearing on a body and tiresome? But I struggled on, still looking for
relief.
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