We’ve been on a Star Wars kick around the Hoover house. It’s pure magic. The classic story of good versus evil, the fight sequences, the imagination of places far, far away, the flying and of course, the light sabers.
Another key element of Star Wars is “the force.” That invisible, but powerful quality that can bend time and control objects with the mind.
This week I feel like I’ve been hit by the force.
I started radiation on Monday and it is an invisible force (that sometimes uses lasers) that has hit me hard.
Based on my previous experience with radiation, I assumed I would pretty much go about life as usual for the next week or so as the impacts accumulated over time. So I took the earliest appointment they had (7am) with the intention of heading straight to work afterward. I walked in to the proton therapy suite, right back to where the machine was. The treatment room is dark and calming, with a table to lay on and lots of other parts of the machine. However, there was a window out to the machine itself and it confirmed my suspicions that radiation science is like deep space physics. I found myself looking out into a three story room that contained a machine that I can only describe as NASA level serious. I laid on the table, got all lined up with my tattoo dots, had my whoopie cushion weight belt strapped on around my middle and put my arms above my head. Then the arm under the table moved me out into the middle of the machine and the therapy commenced. It took about 15 minutes and then I was changing out of my gown and on my way to my car and out to work.
As I sat in my car for a minute and began my drive, I started to feel nauseous and sluggish. I must be coming down with something, I thought. Surely this is not the effects of radiation already! But sure enough it was. I muddled through a couple hours of work with intermittent trips to the restroom and then called it a day week.
Each day has gotten a little bit worse. I feel like I am swimming through molasses, mentally and physically. Thankfully, I have some anti-nausea medication in my arsenal that have helped stave off the worst of it so I can still keep food and water down. Aside from the physical symptoms, the frustration of how unexpectedly hard this treatment has hit me has been the worst. I tried to keep an open mind about how I might feel, all the while feeling quite confident that I was going to breeze through these five treatments, no problem. It has been a lot to rework those expectations and accept what actually has been – days of being in bed, days of having to be driven places, days of being waited on, days of having to hit pause on the regular rhythms of life.
Things have been hard and considering the effects last about 2-3 weeks post treatment, I’m looking at another few weeks of feeling crummy. However, there have been some really sweet moments recently and I have to share them too:
- We snuck in our summer vacation to Maine just before my treatment and I am going to resist photo dumping, but it was the very best.
- People who have been willing to wake up at o-dark-thirty to drive me to radiation treatment.
- Getting all dressed up and watching our final three students walk across the stage at the MHS graduation.
- Cards for each day of treatment.
- A meal train that I was (foolishly) reluctant to have friends set up for me, but has been the most immense blessing (https://www.mealtrain.com/trains/6ymz4y).
- The sound of the World Cup on Telemundo (that’s the only way it comes in this house) in the background of every day! I’m going to be fluent in Spanish by July.
I am through 4 treatments and just have my final one to finish up on Monday, June 22. Thank you for checking in and for praying and for helping with meals and all the 97 different ways you have cared for our family right now. We feel seen and loved and know that God is doing something big.
Daring to Hope 