The One about Radiation

Breast Cancer, Perseverance, Progress 3 Minutes

Before my first round of radiation therapy, I lay on a treatment table for a computerized tomography (CT) scan and simulation to help my doctor and team plan my treatment. They made me a custom foam mold, shaping it to my torso, with my left arm extended above head. With a purple Sharpie, someone drew a cross on the left side of my left breast, another cross on my chest, one on the outside of my right arm, another on the inside of my left arm. Then came vertical lines, one on the upper abdomen right of center and two more flanking my torso toward the back of my ribcage. Then came the hypoallergenic tape over the markings, which would help preserve the lines to quickly align my body during the upcoming treatments. I left the simulation with a gift of the purple Sharpie, for touch ups if needed. Radiation would begin eight days later.  

Radiation therapy targets tissues where cancer cells remain with high-energy rays. While normal cells repair themselves between treatments, the cancer cells die. During appointments, I check in, go straight to the dressing room, and change into two gowns, the first opens to the back, the other to the front. My other clothes go into a disposable plastic bag. In the waiting room, I give a weak masked smile to three other ladies and listen. They’ve all had chemo and lost their hair, one had lost her job and health insurance, and I don’t quite fit in this conversation. Part of me feels guilty for an easier cancer. Then, like clockwork, Caroline appears and says, “Mrs. Byers?”

I stand and follow.

“What do you want to listen to today?”

“90’s rap,” I say.

She shoots me a look of surprise. “Did you say rap or rock?” I had requested indie music on Days One and Two. This was Day Three.

Still masked up, I say, “Rap.” Our eyes meet and twinkle.

She asks me my name and birthday and double checks my wristband. She waves a wand around my body checking for prohibited devices and lets me snap a few photos before we head to the treatment room.

I remove my outer gown, spectacles, and mask, lay them on a side table, and scoot onto the treatment table, my body cradled in foam. Caroline hands me earplugs—the machine acoustics are noisy—then headphones. She aligns lasers to my markings. Once positioned, I slide into the tubular machine, try to relax, breathe easy, not move a muscle. I can’t feel the treatment. It’s like having an x-ray, except the dose of radiation is higher and given over a longer period. From the other side of the wall, the team monitors via closed-circuit television, and I can call them from the tube and talk if needed. When I start to feel claustrophobic, I talk to God instead. When the sounds of the machine ramp up to an electro-magnetically induced triplicate of Dee Dee Doos layered with a Wee Woo, I can no longer hear Snoop Dogg through my headphones, but I know my thirty minutes or so in the tube is drawing to an end.

My radiation oncologist told me I may feel more tired than usual but that I won’t be radioactive. I laughed at the joke, but when she said it more than once, I realized she wasn’t joking. I suppose some people have that fear. Becoming radioactive never crossed my mind.

My fatigue has been fierce, and I puked my guts out one night. Just one. Nausea isn’t listed as a side effect, and I never get sick, well, except for the cancer, but back at home, I’m physically ill. I’m not hungry. I have no desire to move. I miss my mother. But nothing lasts forever.

Yesterday, I finished the fifth of five treatments. Five of five while others get a month, plus surgery, plus chemotherapy. Let’s say a prayer for them. I’ll be okay.

Published by Crystal Byers

When I was young, my dad would always say, "Crystal, you can choose your attitude." One day I chose to believe him.

Published

106 thoughts on “The One about Radiation”

  1. Prayers for you, too, as well as others. It’s remarkable that you have such a good sense of humor and a peaceful perspective on this period of time in your life.

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      1. Yes, it is a learning experience, and fascinating if I can keep my wits about me. I’ve undergone two or three brain scans after a cerebral incident a few years ago, but the technicians were kind and lots of people were praying for me. My previous primary physician was anything but.

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  3. I chauffeured my mother to chemo a few times. It was there that I met some of the bravest people I’m ever seen. These warriors willingly took poison into their bodies week after week, with the hopes of becoming cancer free.

    I miss my mom, too, especially during the hard times. She used to say, “Everything will be alright, sugar.” She’s the only one who ever called me that.

    Praying for you. 🙏Don’t forget to write—for yourself, I mean.

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  4. As said above, Crystal, this post is doing a great service to your readers who may find themselves going through something similar in the future. I’m thinking about whether to forward this post to a friend of mine who’s about to start the process. Hopefully writing this post – including some light tones – was cathartic for you as well as informative for others. Thinking of you. You’ve got this.

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    1. Everyone has such different experiences, and then we all have different reactions—physical, emotional, and mental. These thoughts were on my mind last week when I wrote, “What Is Normal?” I’ve about decided there’s no such thing…

      I appreciate your encouragement, Jane. It means more than you know.

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    1. They use Spotify to pull up anything. The next time I said, 90s hip hop. That was fun. On my last day, grunge. I like to keep people guessing, and I appreciate your prayers so much, Priscilla. 🤍

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  6. Heading into a CT once the technician asked what music I liked. I said 70s punk and she said “oh, I wasn’t expecting that.” I totally get the notion of not being cancer-y enough around others in treatment. I feel that way all the time with Tourette syndrome. It makes me feel like a fraud even though I clearly have it. I hope this round of radiation is effective and all that’s required. It’s such a scary and awful disease. Here’s to healthier days.

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  7. My sister went through this same treatment for her breast cancer 7 years ago. She stayed on the oral drug – to suppress her hormones – for 5 years after that and then was taken off. That really increased her energy and she is doing well … No recurrence. You are brave to share your story. Not only will it help others but it will be healing for you. God recycles everything we go through into something beautiful. Praying for you! ❤️

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    1. Ally, I appreciate your perspective here because I was clueless how the treatment worked until it happened. I finally read the material they sent home with me this week. It sounds weird, but I appreciate this learning, too.

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  10. The sun doesn’t just rise on some parts of the world only to keep others in the perpetual dark. The sun rises everywhere. I hear there’s also enough of God’s light to shine on everyone, no matter which stage of life or sickness they’re in. 😉 Prayers for everyone, even if to simply make it through a difficult 5 treatments. 🙏

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  11. Wow, thank you for your honesty in telling this story. I’m glad for you that you only have to be in the tube for 30 minutes. Thank goodness you got your choice of music! I’m glad they caught it early Crystal. Cheers to you for getting through these treatments 🙂

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    1. Thank you, Suni! Looking forward to those golden days ahead. You reminded me of a favorite quote from The Count of Monte Cristo: “Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes.”

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  16. You are a warrior queen slaying the cancer dragon with your powerful & beautiful words, spirit, & faith. Hope you now are enjoying some R&R since new future worlds will unfold for you to savor & delight.
    You are way more than ok!! ❤️🌟🤗

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    1. I love that first sentence, Jane. You are like an expert encourager! Actually, I love the second and third sentence, too. Thank you. I’ll be rereading your words!

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  17. I wrote a comment, but I think it got lost somehow 🤦🏼‍♀️ Anyway I think this is the gist of what I said: thank you for sharing your experience with us. It brings to life to agony that countless cancer patients go through. I’m glad your five days are behind you. I will keep praying for you and the many others who are dealing with this heartbreak 💔

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  18. I give thanks to God and for your own fortitude that you’ve made it through your five radiation treatments. I believe that your mother was very close throughout your treatment. Do what’s needed to regain your strength ❤

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  21. Thank you for sharing your experience that helps many people understand not just the ones with cancer. Their loved ones too. My grandfather had radiation and chemotherapy for his lung cancer. I don’t think any of it helped but it made him not hurt quite so bad while dying. Chemotherapy does that. My cancer scare goes on. I couldn’t get the first oncologist to meet with me. They said they have never received a referral. So, after sending it repeatedly she sent me to a different doctor. He thinks I need a D & C. Just waiting to get it scheduled. We were paralyzed by the ice storm. Hopefully the D &C will show I don’t have cancer.

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    1. That sounds frustrating, and I’m so sorry to hear it, Shay. Waiting is the hardest part. Try to stay positive, my friend. I hope you have answers soon, and I pray you’re okay.

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  22. I’m tearing up with so much BIG LOVE that I’m sending to you and all others that have to go through this process. You are such a beautiful amazing soul my friend – keep the music playing and moving forward.🤗❤️

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  25. Crystal, thank you for sharing this. My prayers are with you. Talking to God in those times is the best thing to calm your nerves. I am claustrophobic and I had to take a scan once I had to actively talk to God to not let myself feel fearful of being so enclosed.
    May you feel better, regain strength, appetite and feel better. And most of all I pray that the cancer will be gone.
    Hugs and prayers to you my friend 💙🙏🏽

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  26. I felt drawn in and thought about my 20 treatments on my thumb. My treatments were so short I had no headphones. I had the room to myself and just sang, I knew they were listening but they didn’t complain once. ha ha The people were all nice and like yourself I felt quite fortunate that my situation was not worse. I still have my thumb, albeit it feels different now but would anyway since it was hollowed out, and backfilled from my are in the surgery before radiation.
    I liked your photos, they showed what to expect. The rooms are cold and utilitarian in feeling I thought because of the warning signs etc but the people there were warm. Leaving each day I watched for signs in the clouds or for eagles as I drove home (about an hour each way) with my wife. I often saw the signs I was looking for and even picked up some nice round rocks from the beach in Peachland so I could paint them and add them to the yard and in walking trails.
    Being so enclosed as you were I think you were brave and I admire your strong attitude and faith.

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    1. Twenty treatments on your thumb? I’m happy they saved it and that I met you here in the blogosphere. Thanks for sharing how to keep living life despite circumstances. I always appreciate your thoughts and kindness, David.

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  29. Love, love, love my sweet Crystal…you are always in my prayers (think I now have a strong hotline to heaven)…I am currently in California, but I will call you when I return to Dallas…you are truly a beautiful example of courage, determination, and inner strength…so very proud of you! 💖

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  31. I had a little tear in my eye when you said your missed your mom. Thank you for sharing this experience – it will take the fear out of the procedure for someone reading it. Glad that Snoop Dogg was able to accompany you. I hope the side effects lessen soon. Sending you a hug. K x

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  32. Absolutely inspiring, Crystal! Prayer works, obviously. You, your friends and family appealed, and Someone hears us. Knowing this fortifies you to enter treatment with your typical wit, candor and cheerfulness.

    Plenty of concern, all the same. Naturally. Cancer’s had its way with far too many for you not to keep your eye on it. Still, The “Big” C wasn’t counting on you, and on what your faith and your support have accomplished.

    Reading of Sharpies made me laugh. Here’s an intricate production at one of world’s foremost facilities. A stunning arsenal of technology and skills enlisted on your behalf. Yet, an indispensable element is something priced $8.99 a dozen at Office Depot.

    Oh, I like the fun you’re having trying to stump the DJs/technicians. We have to think, Crystal. Obviously, we’re going to have to come up with something more obscure than hip hop. Name that tune, Crystal!

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    1. I can only hope it helps someone…

      And the Sharpies, right? Unexpected and especially strange after reading about radiation tattoos.

      For now, I head back to school, in the morning, not exactly well. We might just have to listen to Snoop. I think the kids would be surprised. Bow wow wow yippee yo yippee yay.

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  33. Your post gives me a lot to think about and pray about. I am so happy for you that you are finished with this part of your journey. You are a brave and faithful woman. God bless you as you recover.

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    1. Thank you, Linda. I didn’t realize when I originally asked for time off that I might need extra time. I’m super hot-flashy but still planning to work tomorrow with much sitting. Prayers appreciated.

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  35. To my amazingly strong, jewel of a friend! You did it! It’s done! I’m reading your life backwards and I like coming from this direction. You are helping so many people calm their fears and know what to expect in the unexpected world of cancer treatment. Thank you. I miss mom too. Holding you in prayer, sending love and hugs your way, C

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    1. I hope you’re right about me helping. I’m learning there are so many variables, so many treatments, even within breast cancer, and everyone reacts differently. I’m happy to say this part is behind me. Love you, Cheryl! Thank you! ❤️

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  36. Perspective is important, but as my sister oftentimes reminds me, we’re not playing trauma Olympics. I say that to say this: I’m sending you healing thoughts and lots of love as you, too, require thoughts of loving kindness 💞

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  44. Crystal, my beautiful birthday buddy,
    I had no idea you were going through this. This is what I did for 25 years before I retired.
    You are one tough cookie. I know how hard it can be to get through! You should be so proud of yourself❤️
    Love you and I know you will heal great and you will look back on it as just a bump in the road.

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    1. Beautiful Amy, your words touch me! It’s already seeming like a bump in the road. They’ve taken me off the hormone blocker, which was my biggest challenge. Just waiting for my next scan in August. I’m believing in the best news to come. Thanks for taking time to encourage. I love you.

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