Radiation Side Effects Are Kickin' In

They say the fourth week of radiation is when the side effects of radiation start to kick in. They are so right.

"Sun Burned" skin? Check.

Evening nausea? Check.

Exhaustion and fatigue? Check. Double-check. Exclamation point.

I had another bad day the other day. It was the day I really started to notice the side effects. I actually thought the side effects were early...or rather, I didn't know what I was feeling was the side effects because I didn't expect them until after the fourth week. Actually, the side effects come IN the fourth week, not after it.

I was just feeling so darn tired! It was like the tiredness I was feeling when I had low red blood cells after chemo about a month ago. With the tiredness comes a depression because you feel so helpless. However, once I figured out that I was feeling the effects of the radiation, the depression started to ease. It is helpful to know that there is a reason for the fatigue and that the fatigue is important for me to feel - I AM KILLING CANCER!

I am still feeling exhausted all the time, but I know that I only have a few more weeks of radiation therapy left, so that makes it bearable. I also feel heartburn and slight nausea at night when I go to bed.

Pro-Time Update

My blood clot time went down again to 1.72 (17 seconds to clot). So, in order to get the Coumadin to be therapeutic, gotta increase my daily dose from 4 mg per day to 5 mg on Mondays and Thursdays and 4 mg all the other days in the week.

Is this boring information? I think it is. Maybe it gives you, the reader, a sense of how much blood testing I have to do regularly.

Kathleen, my chemo nurse practicioner, tells me that as long as I have the chemo port in my arm, I will have the clot. No one has told me to get ready to have it taken out. I ran into a woman I met in my breast cancer support group - she finished her chemo one month ago and her port has already been removed. I am not sure how long I will have my port in. I hope I don't have it forever, but you never know. After all, I am stage IV cancer. I guess that gives me the highest probability that I will need the chemo port again at some point in my life. As it is now, Dr. Sherman says I will probably have to take Aredia, the bone strengthening drug, for the rest of my life. Aredia is administered via IV (intravenous) drip once a month, so we use the chemo port for that.

My Radiation Therapy

I got some information from Dr. Carmel about my radiation. I had him write it down so I could share it with my friend, Mitch. Mitch used to work with nuclear energy. Here is what Dr. Carmel said:

6 & 15 MV (megavolt = 1 million volts) xrays are what they are using for my radiation therapy.

200 cGy per day

centigray (cen·ti·gray) (sen¢t[ibreve]-gr[amacr]²) a unit of absorbed radiation dose equal to one hundredth of a gray, or 1 rad; abbreviated cGy

That's a lot of lightbulbs.

Here is a link to an article about The Basics Of Radiation Therapy that I found helpful.

Lance Armstrong's Autograph

As I was getting radiation treatment today I noticed someone was hanging this on the wall: A bicycle jersey signed by Lance Armstrong! How cool is that? I asked if he had actually come to Walnut Creek to sign it. Margaret (the boss) told me he was slated to come to dedicate the new brain machine at John Muir - he is the brain machine company's spokeperson - but his kids got sick and he had to cancel. So, we send him the jersey and it came back signed. Nice, huh?

Jennifer

Here is a picture of Jennifer. Jennifer works at Dr. Sherman's office as a Medical Assistant. Jennifer is usually the one who calls me into my appointments with Dr. Sherman. She takes my blood pressure and pulse and temperature. And sometimes she can be persuaded to "just skip the weighing part this time?"

Kristen

I finally got a picture of Kristen. She's nuts. She is so funny. You would love her. Kristen works at Radiation Oncology.

Luau At Radiation Oncology

Aloha! Wow, what a nice place, that Radiation Oncology department. Today there was a all-day party - a luau to celebrate the end of summer. Isn't that nice? I am going to have them email me photos of everyone to post here. They gave away leis (everyone got lei'ed today), gift bags (water bottles, bandage dispensers, sunscreen and mints), and there was tons of food on a big table in the reception area. Those folks really know how to make it a nice place - if you have to come everyday. They even had Hawaiian music playing in the radiation room.

Aredia Drip #2

We had an interesting day at Dr. Sherman's office on Friday. Once a month I get my bone strengthener medicine: Aredia. Friday was my second infusion.

I was there for about ten minutes when a nice older man (83 years old) sat down in the chair next to me. He was a quiet man. Didn't say much. I did overhear that he was there for the same thing I was: Aredia. His name was Mr. S.

I noticed he had a tattoo on his left arm. I asked him what it was. He told me it was his tattoo from Auschwitz. Gasp!

Mark and I were in awe, and we were all ears. Through a few tears, Mr. S. told us about his internment, how he lost 70 of his family members and was the only person left of his family. He told us of the job he did while in the camp (airplane scrapper), and he told us of his arrival in the United States.

Mr. S. looks good. He looks strong. He lives nearby and has a single daugther, no grandchildren. Gwen (the chemo nurse) asked Mr. S. and me when we'd like to come back in for our next appointment and I said, "I want to come back the same day as Mr. S.!"

You never know who you will run into at the doctor's office. It isn't hard for me to start a conversation because in a doctor's office, you always have something in common.

One thing I have learned with cancer: I have a lot to learn. I do a lot more listening than talking these days.

James Taylor Concert

I went to the James Taylor concert last night at the Greek Theater. I was pretty nervous about it. I was nervous about the walk to the theater from parking, about how I was going to climb the stairs to our seats. Until you experience chemotherapy, you might think you know how difficult it can be to move around, but you don't. I didn't. Not until chemotherapy. This was my first real outing since the chemo. I have been afraid to go out. I tried once before: Cleveland v. SF back in June. We (Mark and I) ended up going home before the first pitch. Well, last night was successful. I made it out. Yeah! Chemo drains all of the breath out of you. I feel so proud of myself. Thank you, Yolanda and Saul for a great evening.

This picture was taken by my sister, Arlene. Arlene came over after she got off work yesterday to help me with my makeup. I wore one of the wigs she gave me when I was diagnosed with cancer. Last night was the first time I wore a wig out (besides the few times I wore wigs to the radiation oncology department - which is another story I will get to later). She helped me with the wig, and drawing in eyebrows and helping me with mascara on the very few (5) eyelashes I had left, and all the of new growth I have in the way of new eyelashes. I am so excited to see the new eyelashes growing in! I am not so excited about the eyebrows that I will have to start tweezing again, or the underarm hairs that I will have to start shaving again. Anyway, Arlene does great makeup work. Arlene was here with me when my hair started coming out, and got me through shaving it off. Now she is here with me while my hair grows back in, and here for me to get my makeup on again and go out. It is so nice to have a sister to go through those things with you. I am very lucky. I have two of them.

Which Blood Test When?

I am so confused about when I am supposed to get which blood test. I can't figure it out.

Here is what I do know:

• I see Dr. Sherman every month, right before I get my Aredia IV drip. This is so that he can look at my liver function and verify that I can get the drip. The liver panel is available on the Big Labs, which takes three days for the results to get back to my Dr. Sherman.
• I need to get my pro-time checked (for my blood clotting time) as directed by Dr. Sherman or Cindy or Kathleen. Sometimes they might have me check it in a week, or it could be two weeks. It depends on if there has been an adjustment to my Coumadin or not. The results for the Pro-Time take about three hours and Quest Diagnostics usually runs the results upstairs (I don't have to wait for them).
• The CBC is what I used to get every two weeks before chemo. This is to check my white and red blood cell counts. Until last week I was continuing with the cbcs every other week because it took that long (since the beginning of July) to get my reb blood cells back in shape. I don't know if I am supposed to get cbcs anymore.
• The BIG LABS includes the cbc and the pro-time, too.
• Dr. Carmel just sent me over to Quest last week for a cbc for his office, too. He asked me if whenever I get blood work done, to have them send Dr. Carmel a copy as well.

(I asked Quest if they could just send Dr. Carmel a copy of the one for Dr. Sherman and they told me I would have to have Dr. Sherman authorize that Dr. Carmel can get a copy. Geez. So, I did ask the receptionist up at Dr. Sherman's office to add Dr. Carmel on the list of "folks who get a copy" and it never happened, apparently.)

Maybe I will just go every week to Quest and get Big Labs drawn. Twice. Once for Dr. Sherman, and once for Dr. Carmel.

Another Adjustment

My Pro-Time is too high still. Cindy called me last week to let me know my pro-time was 3.43. She told me I should take 2 mg of Coumadin nightly instead of what I was taking already.

That confused me. At that time I was taking 5 mg per day. Now she wants me to go down to 2 mg per day. Seemed kind of drastic to me.

I saw Dr. Sherman the next day and he said the information in my file was incorrect - they didn't know I was on 5's....so he adjusted me to taking 4 mgs per day.

That's why we are a team. ;-)

The Blasts (of radiation)

In case I didn't mention it....you can't feel the "blasts" (as I call them) of radiation at all. You hear the machine, but you don't feel a thing. ;-)

No Spam!

I just changed the settings for this blog. Now, if you want to leave a comment on a post (and I wish you would!), you need to be a registered user. It just takes a minute or two. I had to change it because someone figured out how to send spam through blogs on blogspot. This has not been a problem up until last week. Since last week I have received several comments that were just pure spam.

So, sorry that I had to change the comment requirements. I really do appreciate bona fide comments from people who read my blog. I really do enjoy them: they let me know someone is reading this thing!

Radiation Oncology ...continued

Okay, so I'm lying on my back with my arm way up over my head. They keep the room is pretty cool (which is kinda nice, since it's about 96 degrees outside). Now I have my hospital gown over whatever pants I wore to radiation and my left breast is exposed. The radiation therapists are in the room, Sharpies in hand (locked and loaded).

Then, all of a sudden, it's like I'm in some weird kind of bingo hall. Everyone starts shouting out these weird numbers and coordinates and settings: "Tilt is 20" or "First tabletop = 20.8" and "SSD (source to skin distance) 100" and "Shift 9.2". Sometimes they say "2 cm inf (inferior)" or "353.5". What I've come to learn is that these are my personal table and machine settings. These settings assure I am lying on the table in the exact way every time, so the radiation machine hits me in the same place every time. I THINK that they use them to trace the lines cast on me from the radiation machine to help "line up" the next blast I get. The radiation machine has something like cross-hairs and they are projected on my chest like a projector projects onto a movie screen. Once the therapists have me on the table in the correct position, they make tick marks on my chest which they use to line up successive shots. Once while they were drawing on me, I said, "when I put my arm down it looks like a smiley face". When I got in the shower the next day, I saw that Gretchen had actually drawn a smiley face on my shoulder. HA! Who says those therapists don't have a sense of humor?

And so it goes. The therapists come in after each blast of radiation to adjust me (or the table I'm on) in some way, or to change the block.

[When they are radiating my breast they put a cartridge on the xray machine that has a block on it to shield my face from the rays. When the machine moves to shoot the breast from the other side, they switch out the cartridge - which seems to be made from acrylic or plexiglass or something like that, and the block is made or sero (I think that's what Robert called it - it looks like pewter or some kind of silver metal) - so that my face is protected from the other side - kind of like putting on a right handed baseball glove to catch with your right hand, then putting on a left handed baseball glove to catch with your left hand.]

The machine gives me a blast of radiation to my left breast from the right side, then a blast of the same breast from the left side. Then the machine goes upside down and blasts my axilla area ( underarm) from the bottom up, and finally a 40 second blast to my supraclavicular area.

Yesterday, however, we added another field to the "radiation dance". We added my left humerus. Ha Ha. Very funny. (I couldn't resist)

So, after my supraclav blast, I get up off the table and the therapists lean over the table and after five or ten seconds and a flurry of arm movements, the table is transformed. It is now flat and the leg rest has been removed and the headrest replaced. I lie down (again, on my back) and hoist my arm way back and flat on the table above my head.

The arm doesn't take as long to blast. Just two shots: one from the top and one from underneath.

The entire radiation appointment is quite pleasant, now that I am getting to know the therapists and the procedures. It was a little frightening at first: all sorts of activity that I had no clue about and I didn't know the people who were touching me. I was told not to speak, you know. I guess speaking moves your body.... Anyway there was a point where I was considering using my own sharpie on my left breast before my appointment. I was just going to write "Hi! How are y'all doing?" ...hoping that would get them to laugh and maybe loosen up a bit.

I didn't have to resort to defacing my own body, thanks to every patient's advocate, Kristen. I told Kristen I was lonely because no one would talk to me or tell me what was going on, and she went screaming down the hall "Talk to Deirdre! Make SURE you talk to Deirdre!" Except she said "DEE-Dra" or maybe she said "The Blogger"..she likes to call me "The Blogger".

Now I can't get any quiet in the radiation room. ;-) (just kidding)

I really enjoy my radiation appointments. I do. And the ice cream is only part of the reason.

The Radiation Machine

Radiation Therapists

Keith

Iris and Gretchen

Lourdes (intern)

John

Paul

and Sherry

Sherry giving me "the finger"

Radiation Oncology at John Muir Hospital

What a great place to go everyday! They give ice cream to the patients while they wait. Can you believe it? You get a choice of either vanilla or orange sherbet. I like the orange.

Here is what happens when I go to radiation therapy:

When I come in, I get the best greeting by the amiable Kristin (who flatly refuses to be photographed). Kristin calls me "Blogger". Kristin (or someone like Kristin) sees me enter the reception area at Radiation Oncology and they "queue me in", meaning they let the technicians know that I have arrived. I wave at Kristin and go through the swinging doors (like in a saloon) to the patients' queue area. I call it the "VIP Lounge". It is nice in the VIP Lounge because that's where I get to watch TV and have ice cream!

After some time in the VIP Lounge, I get "the finger". Meaning: one of the technicians comes out of the door and wags his or her finger at me. When I get: "the finger" it is my turn on the radiation machine.

Once in the radiation room, I lie down on the bed thingy and they have something they put under my knees to make my back comfortable, and I rest my head in a cup-like thing and my left arm goes over my head and into some contraption to keep it there. Then after it is confirmed that I am lying in the correct position (it must be the same every day!) out come the Sharpies and the artistry begins.

...to be continued.

Great Appointment Today

We had a great appointment today with Dr. Michael P. (as in Paul) Sherman. I found out why I sometimes need "big labs" and I found out why cancer comes back when it seems like it was gone after chemotherapy, and I got a couple of referrals to doctors for a couple of other nagging concerns (my toe and my left leg). Dr. Sherman also explained how radiation (xrays) kill cancer cells. I can't explain that for you here, though...maybe Mark can remember.

I need "big labs" every month so Dr. Sherman can watch my tumor markers! Actually, he said he will look at my tumor marker results every three months but we should have the "big labs" every month so he can look at a graph instead of a couple of points. Makes sense to me. I just have to remember to get to the lab (Quest Diagnostics) three days before my monthly appointment with Dr. Sherman so he can have the results in time for my appointment. (it takes three days to get results back on "big labs"). My CA-27.29 were a little high last time so we will continue watching them. My pro-thrombin time was also high (3.43) so he told me to take 4 mg of Coumadin per day instead of the 5 mg I have been taking (that's for the blood clot - Coumadin is an anticoagulant). My red blood cells are good this week so I didn't need a shot of Aranesp. THANK GOODNESS! Those shots hurt. I also need "big labs" every month right before my IV Drip of Aredia (bone strengthener) so Dr. Sherman can check my liver function and make sure I can take the Aredia.

I showed Dr. Sherman my toe on my left foot and he referred me to a dermatologist. He says it looks like I might have a "_______ _______ melanoma". I forgot what he called it..except for the last word. Kind of stuck in my memory for some reason...duh. Dr. Becker is the name of the dermatologist. My appointment with Dr. Becker's Physician's Assistant is next week, Aug 24th.

Dr. Sherman also referred me to an orthopedic surgeon for the numbness I have in my left leg. I forgot his name, but I am going to call him this afternoon, too. I am waiting for them to call me back to get an appointment. I think it's going to be at Muir Orthopedics.

Fuzziness

My hair is coming back in. I noticed the other day: I saw some peach fuzz on the sides of my head. Ha!

I don't see much on top...maybe I am going to turn out like George Costanza? Nah...it's probably because I can't see the top of my head as well as I can see the sides.

Mark was telling me I had stubble, but I have had stubble the entire time...the stubble just doesn't grow. But I took a closer look and yes, in fact, I do have new growth!

I did notice at swimming on Saturday that the goosebumps on my chest had very short, fine hairs coming out of them. This is also new.

So Mark teases me about having 5 o'clock shadow on my head. Cute.

Distortion

Now is the hard part. Now it is hard NOT to think I have cancer popping up in the slightest sniffle or cough or other minor malady. For example, I have been coughing quite a bit lately. Dr. Carmel told me I might experience some of this in the last couple of weeks of radiation thereapy, so I am coughing a bit early. I am not sure if the coughing is due to the radiation, or the fact that I have slept with the windows open fo the last week. OR, is it cancer in my lungs? (highly unlikely) I have also noticed a black spot on my left big toe's toenail. There is also slight swelling at the base of my nailbed on the same toe. Is it cancer? (again, highly unlikely - but I will defintely get this checked this week)

I went swimming this weekend. 52 laps. Amazing isn't it? What I wish I could do now is sit up for more than 30 minutes at a time. Anything more than 30 minutes now and I can no longer take the strain on my lower back and I need to lie down. Swimming really makes me feel good - there is no strain on my back when I swim. I wish I could spend the day in the water. Dr. Sreenivasan is going to refer me for physical therapy (for my back) but not until after radiation therapy is complete...which won't be for another five weeks. I am worried about how I am going to make it through an 8 hour day back at work starting two weeks from now if I can barely stay in a sitting position for 30 minutes.

Not Much To Report...

Nothing much to report. I still have neuropathy in my feet. Not so much in my fingers so the buttons on Mark's shirt no longer give me problems. Still have numbness in my left leg due to the sciatica.

Feeling Better - Thank You Lance

For a while there I wasn't feeling well at all. I was so tired all the time. Even getting up in the night to use the restroom left me panting when I got back into bed. This brought on a bit of depression, I believe. It is a very difficult thing to get sick. We take our health for granted, don't we?

I have been feeling better. I don't get out of breath using the bathroom anymore, but I have a long way to go to get back to where I was before cancer. I try to do something at least three times per week, either going for a walk or swimming.

I have been reading Lance Armstrong's books. It is only because of these books that I realized that the fatigue was normal for a cancer patient. I was getting down on myself because I thought it was the weight gain. (OH yeah! Here's something: Dr. Carmel - my radiation oncologist - tells me that 9 out of 10 cancer patients gain weight during chemotherapy!) Lance's books are great and so inspiring. I would love to meet him one day.

Lance is going to be on HBO tomorrow night: CostasNOW at 9:00pm PDT. The Discovery Channel is also going to be re-airing the series CHASING LANCE on Aug 27 and 28 so check it out. I plan on spending the entire weekend in front of the big TV.

Nausea

I just had my sixth radiation treatment and I am wondering that has anything to do with the nausea I felt for the last two nights. It's just a little nausea...but noticeable.

They Will Remember Me

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in February of 2005, one of the things that worried me was how I would be treated once my hair fell out. I wondered how I would handle myself if anyone made a comment about it, or if anyone stared or laughed at me. What a wonderful thing: I have felt so loved! In fact, I have felt that I am better taken care of by the general public as a bald woman that I had been treated before I began cancer treatment. People are gracious and courteous. Wonderful.

Well I was batting .1000 until a couple of weeks ago - when I went grocery shopping at Raley's supermarket. I was making my way through the store with my cart, and as I passed by a group of three black children, they exploded with laughter on sight of me. They apparently tried to stifle their laughing until I went down a different aisle, and then again broke into laughter and made comments about my bald head among themselves when they could no longer see my face. However, they were to be faced with me again, as the aisles we were traveling converged. I made it a point to look into each of their eyes. I wasn't mad at them. But you know what? I want them to remember me.

They are young now, and maybe they haven't seen a bald woman before. But they have now. They may have never seen a woman with cancer before, but they have now. Maybe they just don't know what it is about. I believe they knew that laughing at me was not a nice thing to do...they appeared to be trying to hide it.

One day someone near to them will be stricken with this ugly disease. This is not my wish, it is inevitable. Maybe then they will know what cancer looks like. Cancer is not something you get at Christmas because you asked Santa for it. Cancer is nothing you sign up for. You can't even earn it if you try.

When they are touched with cancer, they will remember me. I will be the woman they laughed at in the grocery store that one day. The one they poked fun at and talked about all that afternoon. I will be the woman who did not cry when they laughed. I will be the woman who looked them in the eye without judgement.

They will remember me.

Xrays

Mark asked the doctor about the radiation therapy...what kind of rays would be used... Dr. Carmel says they are using high powered xrays. I counted and the last blast of xrays was for about 38 seconds (the one to my supraclavicular area). Whew!

I am starting to see and feel a little sunburn already on the left side of my chest. It seems a little early, but....whatever.

Sherry, one of the technicians, set me up with an appointment to "sim" my arm next Monday. I am looking forward to that. After this happens we will be ready to zap my laft arm, too. That is where the metastasis occurred.

I got an email from a mailing list I apparently signed up for in February (hehehe). First one. It is from The Wellness Community. The Wellness Community (TWC) is a national nonprofit organization that provides support, education and hope to people with cancer and their loved ones.

Anyway, the interesting thing about that email is that is had an link to an article on a guy named TOM CRONAN who did a wonderful thing: he made a W.A.R. on cancer. Read about it here.

Here is an exerpt from the article: The Wellness Community of San Francisco East Bay welcomed cancer survivor, Tom Cronan, on May 19th as he celebrated the final stop of his 6,600-mile cross-country motorcycle journey to raise cancer awareness. A pancreatic cancer survivor, Tom embarked on his challenging cross-country journey in March, visiting 22 affiliates of The Wellness Community nationwide to raise awareness about cancer survivorship and the free services available through The Wellness Community.

(I am thinking that by his last name we MUST be related...there are only a handful of CRONAN's in the USA)

Radiation Therapy Is TORTURE

Well, not really torture. It's just that I can't talk, and I can't move AT ALL. That means no cracking jokes, no getting to know the technicians. For crying out loud, I want to know the people who see my breast every day, and most times TOUCH IT, ya feel me? Hehehe.

And, get this, in the radiation room they play music that I know and would normally just sing right along with...and I can't even do that. Not fair.

I met with Dr. Carmel after my appointment today. I guess it was just to check in after I had been through a couple of radiation sessions and to give me the opportunity to discuss any concerns. I had none and neither did he. He is very thorough!

Dr. Carmel did say that he spoke with Dr. Sherman about my arm and treating it with radiation. Dr. Carmel said it would only be ten treatments. He put a note in my file to have someone schedule a simulation for my arm sometime in the next few weeks. Plenty of time. He said I should be happy during those treatments: I can talk and sing as much as I want.

Dr. Carmel

Here is Dr. Carmel.

CARMEL!

I got the doctor's name wrong. It's not Dr. Carmello, it's Dr. Carmel. I'll try to get a picture of him next time I go in (tomorrow).

Radioactivity

Well, I just got back from my very first radiation therapy session. I didn't feel a thing! I get four different shots (for lack of a better word) of radiation per session. One is aimed at my left breast from the right side. Another they call the "lateral", which is from the left side. The third one is aimed at the axilla. And the last one is for the supraclavicular area. Here is a link that shows an example of the area that gets radiated for breast cancer. The folks at the radiology oncology place told me I am "unusual". They were talking about my settings for the machine. I think. Just kidding. They were referring to the machine settings. Oh well, not like I ever considered myself normal. Ha!

I went to Longs today to get the recommended deodorant (no aluminum!) and some Aloe Vera gel for the sunburns that I will be developing.

Looks like I am going to be off work another thirty days thanks to the nice people at my office. See, what happened was that I miscalculated the length of time the FLMA allowed me to be off for this cancer treatment. I thought it was three months, which would have me back to work on Monday, August 8th. In actuality, it was twelve weeks off, which should have had me back to work already (July 31st). Rats! I didn't know I was mistaken until I got a notice in the mail from the HR department telling me that my thirty day personal leave was approved. Thanks so much, Paula!

All in all it was a good day today. I feel happy to start my radiation at last. I am happy to do whatever it takes to get my life back in order...to be healthy again.

A note to Marina: Thank you for reading my blog. I noticed when you guys took me to lunch. You had all the information I had put in this blog. I am impressed, and humbled. You are a very nice lady.

As a matter of fact, thanks to all of you who read my blog. Again, I am humbled by your interest and concern. Oh yeah, a couple more things:

• Thank you, Pharmacy Dept. for the gift - it was too much, but I will do my best to spend it all!
• Thank you, Quality Assurance Team - the orchid and the colorpot are beautiful additions to my home.

Thanks again to everyone who came to my party. It was great to have you all around me again. Lots of people don't like to have birthday parties when they get older, but I have to tell you: I recommend them! And believe me, I didn't have a party for the presents (although that was a nice bonus!), I had a party to be with the people I love. It was priceless.

Lordy, Lordy! Deirdre is 40!

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeee! I have so much to be thankful for. So much to live for! I had a party on Sunday to celebrate. It was a great time! My brother came and brought his guitars and he and my uncle George played and sang - Eleanor Ripalda, too! (She is family to me as well!) Mark did a fantastic job at being chef and also was the host with the most. It was a great night. Did I tell you what Mark gave me for my birthday? A BRAND NEW CAR! It's a 2005 Ford Escape XLT Sport! Woohoo! ...for getting back and forth to cancer radiation treatment, of course ;-)

Tomorrow I have an appointment at the radiation oncology department. It is another preparatory appointment with Dr. Carmello. The radiation will begin (for real) on Thursday, August 4th.