Whenever Jacob finishes something – dinner, a puzzle, a book – he says “all done!” emphatically and waves his little hands in the air. It’s incredibly adorable and I find myself mirroring this habit of his back to him.
At radiation each morning when the whirl of the machine shuts off and the “Beam Off” light flickers dark, I can’t help but smile and think “all done!” Even if just for that moment or that day, my treatment is over.
Today, Joe & I ventured out to see the radiation oncologist and discuss my CT scan yesterday. My scans showed that my cancer has “essentially vanished”. Say, what?! We are stopping the standard radiation treatment going forward, especially with my upcoming travel – yay! It is undecided whether or not to do the boost treatments to my lymph nodes and chest but we have time to figure that out. Even the areas outside of the radiation field are disappearing.
I cannot tell you how much I needed that news today. My chest is certainly worse for wear and this week has been hard. I basically have no top layers of skin in the radiated areas, which is why showering and lotioning is so ridiculously painful. This week is supposed to be the worst and I will begin to heal hopefully as soon as this weekend. I am praying for that healing!!
I am not considered NED currently, as I haven’t had full body scans to confirm anything and my CT was of my neck and chest only. And I will never truly be cancer-free. The radiation oncologist agreed entirely, and stressed the importance of, visiting the different centers that we have been going to and that we have planned. At some point, the Xeloda will stop working and I will need to consider next steps. One of the things that I am learning at the different centers is that I do have options – including and excluding clinical trials. There are things that I can do as “standard treatments” before a trial or I can consider the trials that are available. Each center has been giving me the trial names to research in anticipation of the day that they are needed. And research is exploring more options every day.
So yes, I am a stage 4 metastatic breast cancer patient. And yes, this has been one of the hardest weeks of my life. But hearing that my cancer is not appearing on scans and that this pain has a purpose makes everything worthwhile.