this week, Week 40, has mostly been a blur of dressings and silvadene and showers and ITCHING. oh the itching. memorial day, if i recall, was much like the rest of that weekend: staying inside and not moving around too much. it was a nice day, so we (read: andy) grilled some ribeyes for dinner.

tuesday is back to the daily radiation grind, though with a slightly different process, since we are moving on to boost treatments. i take my usual position on the table, though i am allowed to put my left arm into a little less extreme stretch than the previous five weeks. the techs scoot and slip me around into position. once they are satisfied, one of the techs informs me, "since we don't want to put new stickers on your skin, i'm going to be drawing some blue lines on you with a paint pen." okay then. i can't really see what he is doing because of my surgical mask, but it definitely smells like arts and crafts time and it definitely feels weird on my sensitive skin. meanwhile, the techs are also fiddling with The Baconator, as the boosts require an attachment (they also refer to it as a cone) to focus the zaps. usually, when i am laying on the table and The Baconator is in the default position, it is.. i don't know.. a foot or two above me? with the attachment in place, i can't even see the bottom of the attachment (see again: surgical mask), but i am told it is only a few inches above my skin. no sudden movements! the setup takes awhile. eventually, i get two zaps, each one lasting about 25 seconds (at least i don't have to hold my breath for these). the first zap comes from The Baconator's default position plus attachment, aimed directly at what must have been a suspicious looking lymph node, located near the middle of my chest. the second zap, which requires a switch to a different but similar attachment, comes with The Baconator positioned about 45 degrees to the left, the attachment mere millimeters from my left arm, and is aimed at the entire length of my surgical scar. from this angle, i can sort of see a frosted-looking square block that slides into the bottom of the attachment, with a cutout in the shape of my scar. kinda weird. and then that's it. the table slides out from under The Baconator and i am about to swing my legs off to leave, but the tech stops me. "hold on, we need a picture." i am a little confused, because usually they say "image," and usually it is taken by The Baconator itself. nope, this one is just the techs using a simple point-and-shoot camera, presumably to capture my new blue marks, and i finally see them and WHOA those are some bright royal blue markings. it makes sense... black would have been hard to see against my poor, now dark maroon, skin. it feels like a slightly weird hostage situation, but i can only presume nothing nefarious will happen with these pictures.

on wednesday, radiation goes much quicker, though there is still some shifting and shuffling to get me in place. afterwards is my weekly visit with dr. d. she examines my skin and tells me that it looks like the area under my armpit doesn't look like it will spread much more. however, the other side of the radiation field, near the center of my chest, is looking a little blistery. "yeah, if those areas open, you can go ahead and put the silvadene on them as well." YAY MULTIPLE SORE SPOTS AND DRESSINGS TO MANAGE. she assists me with placing the dressing back on after i apply silvadene, as i am heading straight to physical therapy after this. similar to last week, i shove a sandwich, chips, and drink into my mouth on the fifteen minute drive, and arrive only a couple of minutes late. i half-heartedly arm bike and do pulley stretches, as i am just generally sore, but i admit i haven't really been doing much in the way of PT at home, so at least getting things warmed up and stretched is a good idea. no measurements today, just lying down and letting her lymphatic massage wash over me.

thursday morning, the numbing cream and press and seal makes an appearance: back to dr. m! well, technically, i'm not seeing dr. m, but i am going to her office to get a port flush and my second zoladex injection pellet thingy. i tell the nurse that i received the first injection on the right side of my belly, and i know they usually like to switch sides, but my left side is going through enough already with radiation, so can we just do the injection on the right side again? she says of course, as i show her the deep shade of red my radiated area is currently sporting. as she sprays the super cold numbing liquid on my belly (which, i must say, she does in a much slower, tolerable, and comfortable rate than the previous nurse), she shares about her own radiation experience. we both express agreement that the whole "radiation is easier than chemo" is a terrible lie for both of us. it is sort of comforting to be attended to by someone who has waded through the same crappy waters. afterwards, i treat myself to some starbucks, then it is back home for a bit, and then off to radiation, which goes pretty quickly.

on wednesday, i had mentioned to dr. d that i filled the tramadol prescription, but hadn't used it yet. she sort of recommended that i try it, so that i would know if it works for me or not. i had held off, because the usual ibuprofen and tylenol were working well enough. but the areas of peeling had spread to places where i wasn't numb from surgery. so on friday, i head to radiation as usual, pick up some more mepilex dressings for the weekend, then come home, have lunch, down some tramadol, and sleep for most of the afternoon. on the positive side, aside from a slight bit of swimminess, i don't notice any real side effects. on the negative side, the drug isn't quite as magical as i had hoped. it sort of cuts the edge off the pain, but doesn't seem amazingly better than what i had been using. 

saturday i sleep in good and long. i am sad to discover that the crusty blistery stuff has begun to reveal the skin underneath... sigh. more dressings to cut and to try to keep on my skin. i also discover that tramadol decreases my appetite somewhat, which is fine? but weird. anyway, it is a gorgeous day, and we throw the windows open, so at least i feel like i am communing with nature somewhat. andy actually does stuff outside, but i continue with my not-moving-a-lot and napping-quite-a-bit routines. later, we have a friend over for a socially distanced firepit chat, which is a nice change of pace. FRIENDS! REMEMBER THOSE?

today was our traditional online church while stretching and exercising. i took a giant nap in the afternoon amidst running laundry and trying to blog. i switch from tramadol to aleve, which seems to work just as well, but without the drowsiness and swimminess. another gorgeous day, more windows thrown open, some pork steak grilling was definitely had.

tomorrow is my last day of radiation.

let's do this.