Keepin' It Real About Radiation

So, here begins my journey with radiation. I have been given exactly zero time to recover from chemo. As a matter of fact, I had to cancel my first radiologist appointment because it was two days out from my last chemo and guess what? I was sick. So, yesterday was my new radiologist appointment and also what they call a "set up session". That's a nice way to say a CAT scan simulation where you are nailed to a table with the above contraption pasted to your face and upper chest. After my doctor did a once over on me and once again warned me of all the short term side effects of radiation (thick saliva, no working taste buds, a "sore" esophagus, slightly burned skin, yada, yada, yada) and when he began to launch into long term side effects (these I already knew - decreased lung capacity and possibilities for heart issues later with a side of breast or lung cancer to boot) I told him I didn't want to hear them again. I'll be honest - at this point in the cancer game, I am tired. Real tired. I don't have the energy to be super sweet to my doctor - I just want this whole chapter of my life closed, wrapped up, so I can move on and start enjoying life again. With some taste buds. At any rate, I finished up with my doctor appointment and was led back for the "set up" portion of the appointment. Mind you - no one warned me about the possibility of becoming a crazy, cagey, claustrophobic lunatic. Which I did become in the minutes that followed. I was told to undress from the waist up - which made me sad because I had to remove my hat (which I NEVER do - no one sees me without hair unless they see me sprinting from the shower to the bedroom and then it's usually only Abe, and yes, he looks at me funny). The tech took her very human moment of sizing up my hair or lack thereof (it's a natural thing to do even for someone who sees cancer patients all day) and led me back to the CAT scan room. I was laid on a very hard table and my upper chest was pretty much completely exposed.  She then presented me with this hard plastic which mesh thing which she claimed she was going to put in warm water and wrap around my head. At this point she said to pretend I was getting a facial. Hmm. Now another tech walked in because apparently this "facial" is a two person job. So out comes this pliable, hot plastic which both techs are now stretching tight over my face and down to the table, at which point they actually lock it onto the table. Take a moment now and look at the picture above - I am in exactly that same contraption. Both nurses are working furiously with this hot substance, rubbing it tight onto every part of my face. Now, if you all wouldn't be freaked out and claustrophobic at this point, then you are not human. They made the mistake of asking me how I was doing and I said it was awkward (and by "awkward" I mean painful and I will ensue a full panic attack at any moment) and the moment they offered to take it off, I said yes. She gave me the option of putting it back on in a few minutes and finishing the scan, or coming back tomorrow, fully drugged on Ativan and trying the scan then. I opted for the latter. You know what? I'm not sorry. I was a much better patient this morning with zero anxiety even locked down to the table and all. Did I mention I told my husband and mom last night that I wouldn't be going through with radiation after all? I really didn't think there was a way around this whole face mask thing. As it turns out - Ativan, Christian music playing very loud in the scan room and the lights turned way down did the trick! So, my next appointment is next week and yes, I am stuck with this face thing for all 17 treatments. At this point, I am done trying to be a hero. If I have to take drugs to get through my radiation treatments, so be it. Better than refusing the treatments all together, right?