I'm a work of art

Yesterday was my last day of radiation! Hooray! I am officially done with cancer treatment and I've run out of excuses to eat whatever I want. Time to slowly get back into exercising and having a healthy diet. I still have what looks kind of like a sunburn on my neck and chest from the radiation. I put Aloe Vera gel on it twice a day and it is supposed to go away in the next couple of weeks, along with the sore throat and trouble swallowing.

I will still be dealing with the tingling fingers and toes for an unspecified amount of time, and I am not expected to be back to my normal energy level until the end of the year. My husband's work load is horrific and he doesn't have a wife with cancer anymore, so I think we'll be seeing less of him in the coming months. We are wholeheartedly looking forward to moving on to 2010!

This picture I had was too kooky not to post. It was taken on my first day of radiation back in June. I arrived and one of the technicians came and called my name. Then he asked who was with me and I said she was my mother. At that point he turned his back to me and said to her, "She'll do this, and that, and this and such, and at the end of the appointment we can look at the calendar and talk about scheduling."

At this point I turned to him and said, "I'm a grown woman with three children. I don't live with her or anything. She's just here for moral support." Then he went on and on about how he thought I was a teen-ager, which I can appreciate now that I am in my 30's. However, he kept bringing it up day after day and it got old. On my anniversary he asked which one it was and I said my tenth, to which he responded, "You got married when you were 8?" Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I got in there and lay down for radiation, and the two technicians proceeded to draw all over me from my neck to down below my chest. To this day I have no idea what that was all about. They just kept saying things like, "Don't worry, this washes right off" and "It won't be like this every time." Then they took photos of me with a little camera and said, "These are just for our records."

After the treatment, I was to meet with a skin specialist. The technician said I could wash it off and I told him I was going to wait because I wanted to take my own picture of the art on my neck. He looked at me strangely and I asked if that was okay, or would that be a problem for the skin specialist? He said it was fine but still seemed weirded out. I said, "You get a picture for your records, can't I have one for mine?" Then I remembered that I had my cell phone and asked if he'd take a picture with that. He said, "But you won't have it all."

I pointed to my clothed body and said, "I don't need a picture of this area! I'm just talking about the part that is showing!" He was still staring me down so I said, "Look, I just want to show my husband what you did to me today!" Finally he agreed to take the picture. I'm sure he would have completely freaked out if I had told him it would eventually end up on a public blog.

I thought the whole experience was hilarious. The coloring reminds me of doodles my kids draw. And am I really the only person who has ever wanted to document this? Is it that bizarre to want a photo? There isn't any way I ever could have described these markings without one. When I did wash it off, there was one line that was just so stubborn and wouldn't erase itself no matter how hard I tried. Then I realized it was my scar! Funny how I had forgotten about it.

One of the hard things about being all done now is that instead of focusing on getting through treatment I am left looking in the mirror at a bald overweight woman. It is kind of depressing realizing that it will take months to get back to looking like my normal self when I want to just look normal now. The novelty of standing out has really worn off. The other day we went out to dinner and when I asked what came with one of the salads, the waiter pointed to Tom's menu and gave the explanation entirely to him. I thought that was odd until I remembered that I was wearing a bandanna as usual, so the guy was one of those people who feels awkward around someone who might have cancer. I'm not blaming the guy or anything, I just feel like if I don't have cancer any more I shouldn't look like it. Everyone loves my wig and I suppose I could wear it more often but it makes me sweat a lot and I still feel fake wearing it.

The hair is starting to grow back in and I look all scruffy like a baby bird! It will be great when my eyebrows fill in more and even better when I have more eyelashes. I particularly dislike realizing that there are several people I've met recently, so they think of me looking a certain way and it is not the way I'm supposed to look!

Nonetheless, what a relief it is to be DONE! I was getting so tired of driving to the doctor's office all the time. Everyone says we should have a party to celebrate, and perhaps we will....in a few months when we actually have some energy!