Yeah, I know. Whatever.

Radiation.
Starts before your body has completely rid itself of the chemo drugs, because they have to start the radiation at some time, and waiting isn't in the books. The first radiation appointment was one month after the last chemo treatment: November 5. I was already tired and had sore muscles and some fatigue, and radiation has helped with that, enormously! Actually, it got better as the drugs faded away, and now is worse again but not as bad as I expected. I expected worse because I was told it would be worse, of course. Like most of this process though, I think I've come through it better than a lot of people do. I don't have a reason for this. Some say it's because I have a great attitude, but I tell you, I don't have any great attitude left.

I know I professed that having a good attitude helps, but you can't force yourself to have a good attitude. Some people are not pre-disposed that way, although I certainly am. The worse the news is, the more I kick into "well let's get at it, tackle it, and get on with life" overdrive. It's not necessarily a rosy "everything is going to be fine, dear, have another cookie" attitude, and it's not really what people refer to as a fighter attitude. More of a put your head down and get through it, never mind what other people say sort of outlook. And isn't that enough trying to describe how I behave by using some allegorical reference? Yes, I thought so.

For the people who do not take the optimistic road: okay, don't. Bad news is bad news, and if you're armed with information and it doesn't look good, you can take it for what it is. There are scores of people who don't have optimistic viewpoints and they seem to get along in life perfectly well. Similarly, people who are optimistic also get along perfectly well, and both types of people don't get along perfectly well at all. Attitude isn't going to stop a bus from hitting you.

Whether you have a good attitude or not is not going to stop the radiation from burning, or some fatigue (or maybe a lot of it) and it's not going to prevent cancer from coming back and it probably won't help with a lot of things. Your attitude is part of who you are, and I don't honestly believe that it will change anything over which you don't have absolute control. That said, you need to get out of bed every day (as much as possible) if you're ill, and you need to eat (it makes a huge difference), and you need to get some exercise. You don't need to be happy about it.

There has been a backlash lately against happiness and positive thinking and optimism, and really, the backlash is just the other side of the same coin, isn't it? Does it honestly matter whether you worry or see the worst-case scenario or whether you think everything is going to come up pink roses and hearts? It seems to only matter to other people, especially those who don't agree with you.

Anyway, yeah, radiation. Five weeks plus one week of "boost" to finish off the program. I've only got two weeks left to go, I'm a bit burned and itchy and sometimes the fatigue is devastating and other times there isn't any fatigue at all and I almost feel normal ... while I'm sitting on the couch looking out the window. My brain is still quite foggy, I don't have much hair at all yet and docetaxel has induced menopause so I have some hot flashes, but not a lot of them. I'm also taking tamoxifen now, and will do so for the next two years. If I haven't had a period in that time, then I am well and truly menopausal and they will switch me to an aromatase inhibitor drug for the next three years. After the radiation is finished, I am to have a quarterly breast exam done by a physician for one year, and a yearly mammogram (for all the difference that made in finding this cancer, but what the hell). I have maintained a daily walk ever since I started the radiation, because we got a new puppy and she needs a morning walk too, and by all accounts the walking is what is keeping me from falling down with exhaustion. Thanks Lizzie! She's four months old, a Welsh terrier, and full of piss and vinegar all the time.

There is a program at the local cancer support centre for people who've finished their treatments called "What now?" or something like that...for those of us who've been through it all, and then it's finished, and then what? what do we do now? I believe that the feeling will be one of being cast adrift. I'm already getting that feeling. Everything has been so intense, from the news to the surgery to the chemo to this radiation business, and then it will all be gone. I suppose that finishing radiation before Christmas, and then the Christmas business etc etc will alleviate some of the castaway feeling, but still. On January 4 I'll go back to work, just like everyone else. How odd, to suddenly be just like everyone else, when I've been so not like everyone else for the last six months. How very odd.