Final Day of Radiation

First, and actually second, third and fourth, a massive shout out to the techs operating the RED machine.  If Dana Farber hires for expertise, compassion, kindness, servant leadership and hugs, they have exceeded any and all expectations. 

Vickie, Alicia, Michelle, Amber, Ahmed, Kriti, Mikayla – thank you for endless support during this leg of my journey.  I deeply appreciate each and every one of you.  Your hugs, play lists, encouragement and silliness made what might have been a very grueling 6 weeks more than tolerable.  I will miss seeing you!

Dr. Van Dams and Mary Lou have guided me along the way.  Feeling empowered to ask anything and everything lightened my load and instilled confidence in every fiber of my being. 

When you lie on the radiation table, you feel very alone (who would choose to be in a room with so many warning signs??).  And yet, I never felt alone.  Between curated playlists and the knowledge that my crew was watching over me in case I needed anything, I found ways to bring positivity into the experience - singing out loud, talking to the tumor, reminding it that it was not welcome in the house of Kathy, visualizing it shrinking from a fig down to a blueberry (you got something better?). And gratitude, gratitude for all those seen and unseen powers conspiring to support my healing.

Enter the mystery zone.  While it wasn’t (at all!) a cherished activity, the routine of trekking to the hospital every day, of eating at prescribed times to take my chemo pills, remembering to wear “radiation appropriate” clothing, getting on the table, getting off the table, all served as the (temporary) metronome of my life.  Even unwanted routine can be grounding.

Next on the docket: chemo infusion.  But not today.  And not tomorrow.  I’m breathing in gratitude for my family and friends surrounding me, for the exquisite care team (emphasis on care) and for the burst of color all around me as spring continues her magic. 

Let’s do this!

Ring that bell!