Happy Halloween!

My Halloween costume this year is a hospital gown, a snorkel, and a nose clip. I am a radiotherapy patient.

I am greeted by nurse Sn who begins by saying I’m just going over your notes and, well, you’ve been through a lot. I’ve heard this so often now all I do is nod and smile. At least it doesn’t make me cry anymore. We go over some admin, talk about scheduling and treatment and then she deposits me back in reception to wait for the technicians.

There are 3 technicians in the treatment room. Apparently they all have to reach agreement on positioning and angles before any treatment takes place. I suppose that is a good thing considering radiation is involved. I change into the first part of my costume, a short upper body gown that has snap closures all the way up the front. My fingers struggle to do up the tiny snaps – a side effect of chemo. About 2 minutes later I wonder why I bothered – as soon as I am on the bed the snaps are opened so the technicians can position me properly.

I lie on something similar to a deflated beanbag with my arms above my head and one hand holding the panic button. The beanbag is slowly filled with something firm and will now be able to hold me in exactly the same position every time I come. I wonder where they store the personalised beanbags – is there a room somewhere lined with people shaped moulds? 

Next I add parts 2 and 3 of my costume – a snorkel mouthpiece and a nose clip. The nose clip is to ensure that I only breathe through my mouth and the snorkel is attached to a machine that I can’t see. I take several deep breaths and the machine measures my intake. Next we practice breath holds. I take a deep breath in. When I hit the 80% volume mark, the machine shuts off the air flow both in and out. I then have to hold my breath and lie as still as possible in my moulded position. Once I get to the set time the machine will open the airway for me to breathe normally. If at any point I need to breathe or even stop, I can hit the panic button and the airway will open. The goal is 20 seconds. We start with 5 seconds. It feels a bit weird, but once I realise that my panic button is also the controller and that nothing will happen until I press it to start the process, I’m ok. My ears pop when the air is cut, but other than that it’s not too hard. We progress to 10 seconds, then 15, then 20. I’m grateful that I have been a runner and a swimmer in former years so am pretty well versed with slow, deep breathing. The most uncomfortable part is the position of my arms over my head but my beanbag helps to support me.

The CT scanner takes a scan of my chest anatomy and then the scan is used as a guide to find the exact position needed for treatment. I am given 3 small tattoos – a dot about the size of a small freckle on my breast bone and one on either side of my chest. These will be used to help line me up each time. I will have to come for treatment 5 days a week for 3 weeks. Each treatment will be a series of 20 second breath holds during which time the radiation will be administered. The idea behind the weird breath hold technique is that holding my breath in will push my heart over to the right which will help protect it from the radiation.

And, just like that, I’m done for the day. I remove my Halloween costume and reward myself with a coffee from the hospital cafe while I wait for Susannah to finish work and come and pick me up.

There are a host of horrible sounding potential side effects with radiotherapy but the most common is fatigue. Like chemo, the effects of radiation are cumulative so I will feel at my worst 2-3 weeks after finishing. I do a hasty count back from Christmas. Hopefully I’ll be ok by then? I won’t get my schedule for another week or two so I’ll just have to wait and see.

When we get home we plant ourselves on the sofa and watch horror movies. We’ve been watching horror movies daily since Friday night. I’m not a fan but Susannah is so we always watch them around Halloween.

This year none of them scare me.