Photons And Electrons

Radiation is a curious process. It differs from chemo in that the gestalt of radiation is more akin to a science experiment than to a medical procedure. We're all familiar with chemo. Very strong drugs are infused intravenously and circulate throughout the body on a search and destroy mission.
Radiation, however, resides at the intersection of physics and biology. Some people have radioactive seeds surgically implanted in their bodies. My treatment is more traditional. Rays are being beamed at the site where my growth was removed. The radiation penetrates into the body's tissues and attacks all the dividing cells in the neighborhood. Later, the normal cells will reinvigorate themselves and resume their regular activities, while the dead cancer cells will lie scattered about as so much detritus.

Treatments are dispensed in small increments. My individual radiation plan calls for 35 treatments, each lasting just a few minutes. During my first 28 treatments, the technicians are sending photons, which have to ability to go deeply into the breast tissue. For the final seven sessions, they will switch to electrons and target the top layers of skin around the surgery scar. Treatments are given five days a week, which means that radiation takes about six weeks to complete.

Thus far, I've been radiated three times. Compared to chemo, this is a snap. You undress from the waist up, put on a hospital gown and wait for a technician to find you. Once you arrive at the treatment room, you remove the gown and lie down on the table. Two technicians adjust your exact positioning based on what the oncologist prescribed. They remind you to keep very still, and then they leave the room. The machine that delivers the radiation hovers about 24 inches overhead and to the right and briefly emits a high-pitched whine. Next, the machine re-positions itself about 75 degrees counter-clockwise from where it started. Again, the high-pitched sound signals treatment is underway, lasting another 30 seconds or so. Once the whining ceases, the doors to the room swing open, the technicians re-emerge, and the session is over. Time for me to move along, so the next patient can have a turn.

Finally, the last phase of my breast cancer project has arrived. Sometime in July I will be done with all of it, and move into a closely monitored maitenance mode. My hair is now about 1/8" long all around. I had a coming out of sorts last night, when my husband and I went to a nice restaurant for dinner with my head uncovered. Although some people did a noticeable double take, I just smiled, enjoyed my meal, and reveled in my return.