Someone casually asked me a couple of weeks ago whether I was going to get photon or proton therapy for my radiation. I had no idea. The question was framed sort of like they’d wondered if I was getting the gel or natural manicure. Like I had a choice or any knowledge whatsoever what either entailed.
I went to my first radiology appointment about a week ago, and I am happy to say that I now know the answer to that question. And the difference between a photon and a proton. For those of you who have memories like mine or who are NOT my father (who was a Physics major in college and looked at me pitifully when I probed him for answers), I’ll give you a little RadOnc 101. That’s Radiation Oncology, rookies! Again, this will be in layperson speak so if you are an ACTUAL physician, give me a break. Or correct me. But don’t be a hater.
Most radiation is delivered using Photons. Photons are particles of light (duh) and they are invisible. They are generated and administered using something called a Linear Accelerator. I do not how but I expect this thing is probably a few million bucks. The machines (in the area I’m getting treated in, there are five) seem to go down here and there, causing delays in the radiation queue but for the most part seem to work alright, and the radiation technicians see between 30-40 patients a day. Prior to treatment, I was given a cat scan which maps the physiology of my body and locates my heart and lungs to that they can be avoided during treatment, which will be of my left breast area.
Since I really seem to have won the cancer lottery, I was diagnosed with two different cancers of two different stages; the cancer in my left one was the only one that needs to receive radiation. The technicians use a series of green lights shining in a grid onto my body to “chart” the course for the radiation. They use the grid to line up the machine and the radiate me according to a prescription provided by my doctor, the Radiation Oncologist.
In order to better line up the machine, I’m also given a series of dot-sized tattoos along the intersections of the gridlines so they can be double-sure they hit the right spot. I found it terribly ironic that my first tattoos were going to be radiation tattoos given to me during the treatment of breast cancer at 41. So ironic that in a relative fit of insanity, I went and got a tattoo, of my choosing, two days before the tattoos were administered. The tattoo artist I went to happens to also tattoo nipples onto breast cancer patients after their surgery. She does excellent work — I’m not sure how one develops that skill but kudos to her — I’m sure it really helps women feel a little more “normal” after everything.
Anyway, back to radiation. I started this week. I’ll have to go 28 times. The doctor basically figures out how much I need and then divides that amount by the maximum daily allowance and that’s the number of days I get. Radiation is Monday to Friday for what will be about 5 1/2 weeks. Side effects differ by the body part being treated and fortunately for me, breast cancer patients seem to have the relatively minor side effects of skin irritation and fatigue. To avoid skin irritation (which sounds like it could be anything from a minor to very bad sunburn), I am supposed to moisturize the area with lotion 3x a day. Moisturizing one’s breast is a little odd, but if it keeps me from getting a weird one-boob sunburn, I’ll do it.
True to form, John wondered if the green lights were laser beams and if they burned me. This is not NEARLY as exciting as he imagined. I pretty much lie on a table and hear whirring and clicking. Then I get up, put my clothes on, and head back to work.
I’m a week in and am a radiation pro! And feel great so far. There’s something about NOT BEING POISONED that makes this whole thing seem a heck of a lot easier than chemotherapy…
I didn't have time for this. 