The Ass Cancer Chronicles

Part of my everyday life (welp, Mon – Fri) is going to radiation at the hospital.

Before I started this journey, I didn’t really know anything about what that entailed, and mom thought it’d be cool to explain, so here we are! Let’s dive into radiation!

Fire the laser!

Why am I getting radiation if I’m doing chemo? Great question. The radiation is done every day to battle the ass mass alongside the two rounds of chemo. The radiation targets the ass mass, and treatment builds each day, little by little day by day, to break it down.

Fun fact: when my 30 days of radiation are complete, the mass may not have 100% “left the building”, but the radiation will continue to work on it after I complete the 30 days.

When my bladder is full, I go back to the room that has the laser machine. I lie on a table, place my feet and legs into a mold and pull down my pants to below my ass cheeks. The team holds a towel over me as I do this, as well as helps me get on the table, lie back, and position the mold. I lie like a sack of potatoes as the team moves me into position to line up the dot tattoos on either of my hips and my (I don’t know what it’s called and I’m not looking it up) vagina bone (heheheh) . Once that’s done, they leave the room, I turn on my Bose headphones and cut videos or answer emails for work while the machine’s arms & laser goes around 4 times: the first time is to screen to ensure my bladder is full and the positioning is correct (and I’m sure lots of other medical things that I know jack shit about) and then the other three times are when the lasers are pew pew pewing the ass mass. This takes all of like, 10-ish minutes.

The machine is not scary – it sounds like when you hear an old electric car go by on the street, or when a Saturn vehicle is making funny noises.

The room is not scary. It’s got drop-ceiling, for god sakes – who could be intimidated by that? Nice cream – colored walls with a big ass machine, and some random music playing over a speaker. There’s a few cameras so they can see what’s up. I don’t know – just a plain, old non-intimidating medical room.

Getting the radiation is not scary. I don’t feel it when it’s happening. I hang out in a room, lie on the table with a nice pillow and watch the machine do its thing, or tiggity tick away on my phone and then get surprised when it’s already over.

Everyone is very, very nice. Everyone is willing to joke with me, ask about what’s going on in my life, tell me about their lives – everyone that works there does an incredible job both personally and professionally. I really appreciate them being a part of my every day.

Prep

In the morning, I take a shower. Once I’m out, I aquafor all of my groin & butt parts, take 2 Prilosec, 1 lexapro, an anti-nausea (if I’m on chemo), eat something, drink a bunch of water and about a half pot of black coffee.

My bladder needs to be full in order to push up on other vital organs & get them out of the way of the field of radiation.

Other prep includes 2 sitz baths per day (at least) with either baking soda or epsom salt. I sit there and read a good book, so I’ve been able to fly through quite a few good reads these days.

The Side Effects

It takes a lot out of me, energy-wise. I get super tired afterward sometimes and sleep anywhere from a few to ten hours. I’ve fallen asleep for a “short nap” and woken up between 8 and 10 pm several times now, which is odd. I’m a very early riser normally (between 4 and 5 am) so waking up when it’s dark outside makes my body feel like it’s time to get up and start the day. This has resulted in more reading and making content for work at odd hours.

The skin factor is gnarly, so if you get grossed out by these types of details, please skip ahead. For that reason, and not wanting all of “my treasures” out there on the world wide webs, I’m not posting pics of that shit. No one wants to see that, y’all.

My groin area is comprised of raw skin, skin that is peeling off (by the inches), dead / grayish – black skin that wants to come off, and redness. These options span from the va-hoo-ha and groin aaaaallll the way up my butt crack, and all of the wonderful areas between. There are open wounds (not too large), there is blood (not a lot), and it hurts (varying pain levels). It’s not super fun. It’s not my favorite. BUTT I will take this over another round of chemo any god damn day. Like I explained to my Mom today – pain, I can handle. There are ways to mitigate the pain, both mentally and physically. The chemo took me to a dark place mentally that would be amplified when it turned into physical terribleness. Radiation, to me, is a walk in the park compared to chemotherapy.

And I often think about the fact that I had two rounds, for 4-ish days each, while a lot of cancer people have years of chemo. Months or weeks at a time. Pumped in their veins, or taken by pill. Pumped through a port or whatever. Woof. I feel lucky for the small amount I had to endure.

Doctor Meetings

With radiation, I meet with the radiation oncologist every Thursday to check on my junk. He makes sure of & does all of these wonderful things:

• There isn’t any infection
• Everything’s going according to plan
• Checks mental health
• Gauges pain level
• Writes scrips for any issues of side effects, such as pain meds, creams, etc.
• Talks about additional ways to combat said pain, fatigue, etc.
• I am supported through this and have the resources, education, and answers I need.

All of my questions are always answered. I never feel rushed, or like a burden. We have a great balance of laughs and ass cancer discussions, which makes me feel supported, heard, and seen, making Dr. Kareem Fakhoury not only an incredible doctor, but an amazing human. I’m a big, big fan.

That’s all she wrote.

Legit, that’s all there is to it. I think of it like my job right now because prep, aftermath, picking up scrips, sleeping, traveling there and back, and whatever-whatever does take up a lot of time.

Aaaaand that’s my job right now. Doing that and whole-assing it, right? Which I am doing, by the way, in a model patient way.

Until next time (which won’t be twelve years from now like last time, sorry, y’all) –

Kirsten.