Radiotherapy always seems to be viewed as the preferred sibling to chemotherapy. You generally don’t hear of many people really struggling with radiotherapy, so I think that’s why it’s not considered as scary. It still can have some serious short- and long-term side effects but again not deemed to be as bad as those of chemo.

Having done my 19^th session today, I would whole heartedly agree.

For the patient, it’s a really straight forward process. You go every day Monday to Friday (usually at the same time) and all that is required of you is to strip off to the waist, then lie very still in the same position whilst the radiation is administered by machines that rotate around your body.

For the nurses, it’s clearly a very precise and scientific process. Much of your appointment time is spent getting you in exactly the right position on the bed (which incidentally looks like it belongs in ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ with its contraptions to hold your head and arms in place!). They talk a lot about ‘bed heights, ipsi,  and ant measurements’ and ‘good coverage’ and there’s always at least two nurses setting you up, so you always feel in very safe hands.

Once everything is in place they leave the room, a machine beeps 12 times and the radiation starts. You don’t feel anything at all and, to be honest, despite the slightly uncomfortable position, I have almost fell asleep on the table every day! (That’s probably more reflective of my poor current sleep patterns than radiotherapy being relaxing!)

One thing that did take me by surprise one day, was my very brief reaction (only in my head thank God) to a male nurse. For a nano second, I felt slightly awkward about stripping off and walking over to the machine with my boobs totally on show, although I’m not quite sure why because it feels as though half of Warwick Hospital’s male staff have seen them over the last 12 months one way or another which has never bothered me. I can only think it’s the actual act of taking your clothes off in the room and walking boldly to the table with your boobs swinging as opposed to lying on a bed or peeling back a gown…who knows. Anyway, I very quickly reminded myself that he would have ‘seen it all before’ and any awkwardness faded away.

The other thing that I’ve reflected on is how different treatment feels now because of COVID. Thankfully, my chemo had just finished when the country was locked down, so apart from the operation  I had, I haven’t been into a medical setting on a regular basis since then. Sadly, as a patient, it just doesn’t feel the same. Of course, the staff are still as lovely as ever, but they are, understandably, hidden behind masks and visors and it feels much harder to make a connection with them. Also, you have to go to all treatments on your own so there is no one with you to chat to or have a laugh with. The chairs in the waiting area are all spaced out individually so not conducive to striking up a conversation with a stranger in a similar situation to you (which it won’t surprise you to know I used to do a lot). As I described to my friend Heidi (much to her amusement) it just doesn’t feel like there is any radiotherapy ‘bants’. That’s not to make light of a serious situation, but it’s interesting to me just how much social interaction can brighten an otherwise miserable or potentially scary process.

I’ve been very lucky again not to have suffered too badly on the side effects front. After 19 sessions my chest area is now slightly itchy (looks a bit like a heat rash) but I haven’t felt any discomfort or pain so far which I’m very happy about. My chest area is starting to look like it has a bit of a ‘ready brek’ glow and you can see a very distinct line where the pink skin starts and stops. Apparently, it can also make you feel tired, but I haven’t really experienced this either. My sleep is currently disturbed anyway because of my Tamoxibollocks and its menopausal symptoms but I can’t say as I’ve felt any more tired because of the radiotherapy.

One thing I did learn today was that I need to keep the treated area out of the sun completely for 4 weeks after treatment (makes sense when you think about it) and potentially for ever. I’m not really a sun worshiper anyway but in the summer do where vests with scoop necks, so may need to re-think that part of my wardrobe, especially when we ever get back to going abroad. I guess it’s a good excuse to keep my cover up over my bikini whenever I return to Ibiza!!

Tomorrow it will be one week short of a year since I first found the lump in Cornwall on July 21^st 2019 and it is my last radiotherapy session marking the end of my active treatment. it’s also Dave’s birthday. I have been focusing on this date since diagnosis last September, it’s what has got me through and it’s weird to think I’m almost there.

I anticipate feeling a little emotional tomorrow. Of course, I will be hugely relieved to get to the end of the treatment, I am grateful that I’ve coped with it, that my boys haven’t had to watch me suffer and that I’m still smiling.

It will mark the start of recovery and hopefully life returning to normal (as much as it can with COVID).

It’s also quite scary.

When you’re actively being treated for cancer you know it hasn’t got much chance of surviving, but when treatment stops, and life goes back to normal, it’s going to be difficult not to wonder who’s winning the fight, you or it.

Over the next few months (and even years) I will need to find a way, that works for me, to remain vigilant to any physical changes in my body without being paranoid, a tricky enough tightrope to walk.

But for tomorrow, I will park that dilemma. Tomorrow is about celebrating life.

I have given my boys the day off school, we are going out for breakfast to mark Dave’s birthday and they are all coming to my treatment with me, so they will be waiting in the car for me when I come out. We are going to have a family walk in the afternoon and by early evening I plan to be sipping an ice cold glass of Dom Perignon (very generously bought for me by my sister in law and her husband) and marking the end of the most challenging year I’ve ever had whilst also celebrating everything that I have to be grateful for in life…….and there is plenty!