Half way...

Yesterday I reached the half-way milestone in my radiation treatments. This is good. It's not fun, but not as horrid as I thought it might be... at least not yet...lol. I know that they say side effects can kick in further down the road. But for now it's okay. I would say a little easier than chemo. With chemo you know you will be really sick for like a week and then sort of rebound to functioning again. So you know what to expect. This has the unexpecteds, but not the immediate feeling of "ouch" that the chemo does.

The treatments are short; but wow... I will never forget that smell or somewhat skin burning feeling as those blasts of light go through. Unreal. It feels so "outer space". I'm sure if you are kidnapped by Aliens they have such a machine...

I made a mistake though... egads. I had felt those side effects and that coupled with some well-placed "you could have this happen...." type of comments from others who didn't mean to scare me; I over did the steriods hoping to avoid worse side effects. So I made myself steroid sick. Not good. Instead of staying at the minimum like suggested to me by the doc; I kept upping until I was at the max thinking I needed to in order to avoid losing my balance or ability to speak...... NO... didn't need it.

So I've been cutting back on them as suggested and I feel a lot, lot better. Effects not worse and according to the doc are probably from the treatment itself and not some "giant tumor try to strangle your brain stem..." thanks.

My son is so mad at me. The last week has been rough. We talked about it. He is mad that I am sick again, he is mad that I have to go get "medicine" every day, he is mad that I was so well and fun and now it's ruined. It's hard. His big-time temper is coming out in every way. And I don't blame him. I'm pissed off too. He battles for my attention and doesn't want me to leave his side. I know we will get through it, but whew...

So yesterday on my way back from radiation I stopped at the sporting goods store and bought him boxing gloves, targets, a hanging boxing bag and showed him how to use them. It worked. He loved pummling the targets in my hands and kicking and running at them.... or um.. .me. It's kind of hard for a Mom to say "okay go ahead and learn to fight and hit...as long as I'm safe..." but I don't care anymore. It needs to be. And if one day he is Golden Gloves Champion; I'll be proud.