Radiation Day

I hesitate to even begin this post…not because of how I feel or anything that happened or didn’t happen. I hesitate because I know as Big Daddy reads it, he will think he let me down. That is not the case whatsoever. The only reason I am bothering to write it at all is because of the profound feelings associated with it.

As I mentioned, yesterday was to be my first dose of radiation and Big Daddy was with me the whole time. However, my appointment never happened as I had to be in my first class for my photography lesson. Priorities, you say? Yes, one day is not going to make a difference with starting radiation however, missing one class would have. There may be a hint of what is really important to me as well, with the decision to leave before they could get to me…and if that is the case, so be it.

I told you all about my first class and making new friends. I told you how I am not the most clueless in my class and I am relatively sure I am not the most experienced, either. I told you about the token weird guy and how it’s a must for any class to have at least one nutjob. I was so excited about my first class, I found it difficult to sleep and when I did, I dreamt of photographs, photo manipulation, and the “perfect shot”.

Snow came as I tossed and turned. We had approximately four inches in our little city. School was cancelled and the kids slept in. I got up, dressed, and headed out to my first radiation appointment. Not sure if I mentioned this or not, but Big Daddy has a side business. He is the owner of a lawn and landscaping company who specializes in snow and ice removal during the winter months. He had gone to work yesterday afternoon, throwing salt as a means of staying on top of the weather that was heading our way. We have several commercial properties that require constant salting, plowing, and shoveling because it is cheaper for them to pay us to be there around the clock than it is for them to get sued by someone who falls. The kids stayed asleep, I got ready to leave, and Big Daddy worked with his crew to keep the patrons safe.

I went on to the hospital and checked in. I wasn’t in the waiting room long when I was called back. “Please undress from the waist up and sit here until you are called”.

Ok.

I was called within five minutes and subsequently escorted back into the radiation room. It looked very much like an operating room, and you know, I have seen several of those the past few months. It was dark, as opposed to the blinding lights of an O.R., but the equipment and sterility was obviously medicinal and the people seemed well-trained. Even Joe, the guy who wasn’t in the room when I had to “remove my left arm from the gown”, was nonplussed by my scars or lack of breasts.

The gurney-bed was cold, of course, and the hollowed out place for my head to rest was hard and uncomfortable. One of the technicians took my hand and arm and placed it above my head, latching my fingers around the finger-form-fitted bar. At any given time, there were three techs on either side of me looking, marking my skin, palpating. I was introduced to all of them and remember none of their names except for Joe. You know Joe, as in the only male, standing over my naked torso?

“You don’t have to do anything special except lay completely still. You can breathe normally and not hold your breath. We will do an x-ray first to make sure we have everything lined up properly and to double check that nothing has changed. Next, we will begin the radiation. You will hear the table move and the machine reposition. Just be still and it will be over in no time. You won’t feel a thing”.

That’s when it hit me.

I DID feel something! I felt something I had not felt before that I could ever recall! I was panicked and afraid and scared and petrified. I wanted to leap off the gurney and run! I wanted to get out of there as if something or someone were chasing me. I felt threatened. Unsafe. Unprotected.

What was going on? I had so many other things done to me that this procedure was literally nothing. Why would I be freaking out now? There were no needles. There were no IV’s or meds or even scales to be weighed on. All I had to do was lay there and not move. I don’t have ADHD, so being still is not hard for me, so what was the problem? Why did I feel like a little kid lost and separated from their parents? I felt completely helpless and desperate.

I argued with myself inside my head.

“You are being ridiculous. Knock it off, Stupid. Nothing is wrong! Stop being dumb! God, what a crackpot!”

I forced myself to stay put, to not move an inch. Whatever I had to do to get out of there, I was doing. I knew whatever I was feeling was not rational. I knew I had to stay still. I told myself it was just a matter of minutes and I would be out of there, dressed, and gone. Just breathe…just be still…don’t move…no one is after you…

The technician came back out and helped me up. I was led back out to my clothes and told that they would see me tomorrow. That was it. I was done. I was ready to put on my clothes and go to work. So, why did I find myself fighting back tears? Why was I so sad? Why did I feel so alone and scared and confused?

I put my clothes on as fast as I could. I practically ran to my truck and got inside. I turned it on but just sat there with the truck in park. The radio was off. My phone was still on silent. I couldn’t hear anything outside of my vehicle. All I wanted was Big Daddy.

That was it. Big Daddy had not been with me for the first time since all this started. He had come to every single appointment with me whether it was a follow-up, labs for blood work, or chemo. There had not been a time when he was not with me for whatever the appointment was…big or small. He had even offered to go with me to the “Look Good, Feel Better” class which teaches women with cancer how apply makeup after their hair falls out and they lose their eyebrows and eyelashes! He had been with me every step of the way and I had leaned on him…apparently quite heavily.

This was a new feeling for me. This feeling of needing someone in order to accomplish something for myself. I pump my own gas. I drive all over town running errands and getting things done. I don’t wait for someone to do stuff for me. I am self-reliant and do not need someone to hold my hand to do anything! I have been independent since I was nine years old and buried both parents. I do not, do NOT depend on others for me to make it through anything or any problem. So, how on earth did I arrive here, needing Big Daddy just as much as I needed air to breathe?

I don’t know but I did.

I sat in my truck for a while and finally got myself together. I had to go on into work and act like everything was okay. There is no way I would try and explain that radiation went fine but I felt like a little kid without her teddy bear…that I wanted to run away and never come back…that I was an orphan all over again. So, at work, when they did ask, I said everything went “fine” and that was that.

And so I sit here typing, still confused as to where that feeling came from… How can I be this old and still feel like an abandoned child? Am I suddenly living in Haiti after the earthquake? How is any of this possible? How can a woman of sound mind and generally stable mental capacity still be emotionally catapulted into a cold, dark, foreign room filled with strangers who want something but never ask, only take, and be filled with emptiness and isolation? Did you get that? Filled with emptiness… How is that even possible???

Again, I do not know but I have stopped trying to wrap my head around it and just accept it. Sometime throughout all this, I changed. I let my guard down and loved Big Daddy completely. I stopped having to be in control all the time and manage the lives of my family. I stopped wigging out when my plans changed and started embracing life as it came. Also in there, somewhere, I gave my heart completely to the one man whom I will love forever because I always have. I loved Big Daddy when I was a young girl, dreaming of my Prince Charming…I just did not know his name. In fact, it pains me to not be able to write his real name here because he is so very much identified with his name. It sounds strong, determined, and resolute, just as he is.

So, you can surely see how I would not want to write this post and have Big Daddy think for one second that he let me down. He didn’t. He was out working our business, providing for our family as I embark on everyday appointment for six weeks. Yesterday, as we sat in the waiting room, thinking I would have my first radiation, I told Big Daddy that I in no way, shape, or form expected him to come to every radiation appointment with me. That realistically, with him working the night shift, it was an impossibility anyway. I told him I would be fine and could handle it all by myself. I explained that his sleep was far more important to me than him sitting there for nothing, not even being allowed to go back with me to the radiation room. I meant every word I said and truly wanted him to believe me. I could do this on my own and would be fine.

I still believe what I said. I still want him to sleep while I go for my morning radiation appointments. I don’t want him to feel like he has to come because honestly, he doesn’t. I really will be fine from here on out. It’s just that today, the first day without him, I felt his absence just as much as I had felt his presence and it scared me. I had not realized that I had become dependent on Big Daddy to shelter and protect me from all evils including those which are to make me better. It never entered my mind that I was leaning on someone because they offered and I liked the feeling of being taken care of. Surely as I have lived my adult life as emotionally unavailable at full throttle, I am now completely engaged.

For years and years I thought if I loved Big Daddy with all my heart that something would happen to him and he would die, so I held back. Surely a carry-over from loving my Mom and Dad with all my heart and having them die. I loved Big Daddy with all that I could, but I always held out a small portion of my heart that would withstand his death and not shatter. This small portion of my protected heart would stand and protect our children if something ever happened to their father. And so, I never gave all of my heart to Big Daddy because trusting someone else with your heart is a dangerous business and I play it safe.

Until today.

Big Daddy, you did not let me down today…you let me learn…

And so, I am here learning many things about my family, my husband, my friends…but mostly about myself. I am not as strong as I can be until I surrender my entire heart. We are slaves to ourselves until we love one person more. We say it all the time… “I love you more than I love myself”. Well, it’s one thing to say it and another thing to mean it with your whole heart…your whole heart that is being tended to by that one person you truly do love more than yourself, because you surrendered it to them completely.

That is love…and I love Big Daddy more than myself and my heart is safe.