Radioactive, baby

I had a PET scan today, which was an interesting new experience. I was injected with a radioactive substance to identify areas in my body where the cancer may have spread (we’re praying for NONE!). Setting aside the obvious anxiety over the looming test results, I can’t be within 5 feet of my sweet little man tonight because I am considered “radioactive”. It breaks my heart that I am missing out on our bedtime routine of stories and rocking but makes me appreciate that much more the time I will have to snuggle him tomorrow. This test will allow my doctors to accurately assess my staging and while the treatment regimen would be the same, it will provide a better understanding of what I am fighting against. This one night away from him will allow me to have every night going forward with him.

While awaiting the test, I envisioned my skin beginning to glow and bursts of light jumping onto anything that I came into contact with afterwards. Throughout the day, I became very conscious of the things I touched and the people I was around. Not that I am contagious but because I kept envisioning this glow of light around me that emitted radioactivity. How far does this glow reach? Does it pass from one person to the next? When does this glow fade? Can people see it? Does this make me a superhero?

When my husband and I decided to share my diagnosis with the world, we did it because it felt right. We wanted the people we care about to know what was going on in our lives and the battle we were facing. We wanted to be honest, upfront and real about what we were experiencing as a couple, as a family and as individuals. We wanted to bring awareness to the reality that is breast cancer.

What I don’t think I could have ever anticipated is the complete outpouring of support, encouragement and love from all around us. We have been blessed in more ways than I can begin to count. While there is an uphill battle ahead, I find strength in the blessings and love that surrounds us each and every day. The words of encouragement, the prayers and the support mean more than I can put into words.

Unlike the radioactivity that will leave my body, the love that I feel will not.

To all of you who have wished us well, reached out to help, offered a warm hug or stumbled across this blog and decided to return – thank you. I will continue to envision this glow around me that will provide strength and healing in the months ahead. Because that, my friends, is the superpower that I need. And you have all so willingly and selflessly offered it.

Thank you.

7 thoughts on “Radioactive, baby

  1. I can only imagine how hard tonight is. One day when you tell your little man of the day his mommy was radioactive, he will surely share like kids do…..he will be the envy of his buddies that he has a super hero for a mom in more ways than one 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You are a strong beautiful woman. you will get through this, It wont be easy but. I can tell by this journal, you will journey with strength, love, terrific friends and family by your side.. Huggs Dear Cousin….

    Liked by 1 person

  3. We also decided to go “full public” to let extended family, friends, collegues know about my cancer, and to hopefully give advice to those to follow. Also I find it soothing to write.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad we went full public. It makes the conversations easier and people genuinely care to hear updates. Writing helps more than I could have envisioned. I hope you are enjoying the stories along the way. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

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