The Beat Goes On
Day to day: Back and forth, up and down, to and fro
This has been a week of coming and going, of to-ing and fro-ing, of back and forth and ups and downs. I’ll do a daily recap:
Monday: My wonderful neighbor Felicity drove me to Ninewells to begin my radiotherapy treatment. The Tay Bridge surprised us by not having road works delays, so we spent a delightful half hour or so with a cup of tea at Maggie’s discussing world affairs—really, one of my favorite things to do. Then it was on to begin this round of radiotherapy. Not one of my favorite things to do.
I felt fine until about an hour after getting home, and then I felt as though I had been punched in the gut and in the spine at the same time. The treatment area felt fine, but my thoracic spine ached and I had intense nausea. I made it through a work meeting and then spent several hours flat on my back. In my previous experiences with radiotherapy, I would feel fine at the beginning and then feel more fatigue or soreness as the process went on. This did not seem like a promising beginning to the week.
Tuesday: My beautiful friend Jessica drove me to Ninewells. I felt woozy and like I was babbling incoherently and she was too nice to tell me I was barely making sense. After the treatment I had an appointment with the nurse, and I asked her: “Do people ever just decide to stop after two treatments??” Honestly, I really wanted her to say: Sure thing! You’ve done two sessions—that is plenty for now! You get a medal! Take a break! Instead, she paused and said gently, “You do have anti-nausea medicine, remember? [I had not remembered.] And if you can keep going, let’s try one more day at a time.”
That afternoon, my parents arrived! I hadn’t seen them since February 2020. They were tired from a long trip, but with the help of my sister they successfully navigated international travel in the time of pandemic. I don’t know who was more excited that they were here: me, or the sweet lady who does my Covid checks at the hospital. She kept telling everyone who walked by, “Her parents are coming today from North Carolina!” I do not enjoy my frequent trips to Ninewells, but she makes me smile every time.
Wednesday: My beloved husband drove me to Ninewells. Thanks to the nurse’s reminder about my meds, I was feeling slightly less awful. Lying on the hard radiotherapy table, I kept praying, “Jesus, if you could use spit to heal someone, you can definitely use the radiation beam to remove this tumor. And thank you that I’m over halfway through this treatment now.”
Thursday: My amazing friend Tricia drove me to Ninewells. There’s a large reception area where you check in and wait when you arrive in the radiotherapy department. When they are nearly ready for you in the treatment room, the desk staff tell you whether to head to the smaller waiting areas to the left or the right. It usually went like this: “All right, Heather, you can head around to the left.” [Long pause while I hoist myself from sitting to standing with all the grace of an overweight sheep trying to stand.] “No rush; take your time.” [Long pause while I put my arm in my crutch, grab the pillow for my back, wobble slightly.] This day, after the “no rush!” part of the conversation, I responded: “I love how you say ‘no rush’—as if I could rush!” He laughed. (The next day he left out the “no rush” part.)
I got back home in time to have about an hour with my older son before he left for university in London. When I was first thinking about this post, I thought it would be a long meditation on sending your child—your young adult—away from home. My son has had an extraordinarily difficult year and had to claw his way back through Covid and depression and administrative hurdles in order to re-enroll. I thought this post would ponder the two decades since first learning that I would have a son (during my ultrasound, which took place on 9/11), through happy memories of hikes and concerts with him and hard memories of health issues and school challenges.
And maybe that post will be written at some future point. It turns out that I was too tired this week to be in that place of meditation. I was just relieved that he managed to (mostly) get his bags packed himself. Last year, I went to London with him, ostensibly to help him get his room set up but primarily so that my maternal eyeballs could see where he would be living. This year, I thought I would be sad that I wasn’t able to go. But in reality I didn’t have the energy to be sad, and perhaps that is best for all of us anyway—another step toward launching my young man into adulthood without needing me to provide hands-on assistance, while still knowing that I am filled with pride and love for him.
Friday: My amazing friend Tricia drove me to Ninewells again. I weirdly felt better at the end of the week than at the beginning, apart from ongoing thoracic spine pain. The man at the radiotherapy desk walked me over to the smaller waiting area outside the treatment room and said, “I’ve noticed that you like to wear interesting shoes!” Why yes, yes I do—and thank you, good sir, for noticing, since the only outings for my favorite footwear these days are visits to the basement floor of Ninewells Hospital!
After my radiotherapy session, I had to go to the chemo day unit to have more blood work done. My white count has remained stubbornly low, and we suspect that might be a better explanation for how I felt this week rather than the radiotherapy treatment. Next week we’ll know more; I’m scheduled to restart my targeted therapy, and we’ll confer about my blood work results.
Gratitude
Just in the past week, I’ve received flowers and cards and avocado stickers and emails and kindness at work and rides and notes and photos of a baby sea turtle and meals—I am continuously amazed at all the different gifts that people have and the creative ways that I have been blessed by their generosity of time and thoughtfulness. You all make me laugh and cry in the best possible way. My gratitude spotlight for today goes to my friend’s daughter Ella, who has been praying for me for months and recently asked: “Would it help if I could give Heather some of my bones?”
Prayer Requests
- For my blood work, especially the white count, to allow me to resume targeted therapy on Tuesday.
- For the radiotherapy to continue to be effective, with minimal side effects. So far I feel like there has been a reduction in pain, which is very encouraging.
- For my parents, who will be traveling back home at the end of this coming week. They have cooked and cleaned and painted and done garden work and hung pictures—pray they make it home safely and are able to rest!
- My next CT scan will be October 4, and this should indicate the extent to which the treatment has been working. We are praying that this will be a helpful and encouraging scan.
Today’s Gospel Song
I have loved this song since our choir at Mount Level sang it during a Christmas concert, with the incomparable Geraldine Clay singing the lead. I love the metronomic stomping rhythm, like putting one foot in front of the other. I love when the choir breaks into different parts. I love that the song is a prayer in the present tense: I’m learning, I’m leaning, I’m trusting—still a work in progress, a day to day coming and going and to-ing and fro-ing and back and forth and up and down that is not yet finished.
Always look forward to these, and I loved reading about Evan. Wasn’t it yesterday I was taking night shift with him at your apartment?!
Hello from me and Ava who is seeing in the small hours tonight! Thank you for the update, I'm praying for you as you continue treatment and await the next scan. Thinking of Evan too xx