Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Radiation Complete!

"Your day has come to strike the bell, 
Your silent heart has much to tell.
And much to toll this proud new day,
Treatment done, you're on your way."

By, Mary Kathleen Adcock, 
who battled stage IV tonsil cancer and is now in remission



Pappy and Monkey Me ringing the Bell - signaling the end of radiation treatment



I am home now, having completed four consecutive days of high dose, internal, radiation treatment at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland.

I have learned that, despite what your grandparents told you, laughter is NOT the best medicine - propofol is. But laughter does ease the humiliation.

It's amazing how quickly I became accustom to popping valium at the crack of dawn, repeating my full name and date of birth after every third breath, freely admitting to my weight (my real weight), being entertained watching my veins stuck and flushed and tracking the pain medication as it dripped, ever so slowly, into my IV, and having vessels, fingers, and rods shoved up my ass.

That's not to say that I was enjoying the ass experience. In defiance, I started eating crackers in bed. And drinking before noon, because I quickly realized that one valium and one glass of wine was better than two valium. And then my dear friend Ricki insisted they start giving me drugs intravenously. And when I told them what Ricki said, they listened. And Ricki was right. It made a world of difference. I still wasn't able to willingly submit to being sodomized, but I was now able to balance bouts of off-color humor between winces of pain.

And everyone, and I mean everyone, laughed at my jokes. Even when they made absolutely no sense because they understood that humor was how I coped.

Towards the end of my treatment, I apologized to the tiny, female, Asian technician that I verbally abused during the MRI situation. She smiled politely, as though she had no memory of my inappropriate behavior.

Even though the radiation treatment did not go as smoothly as I had hoped, not once did I question my decision to receive treatment at Johns Hopkins.

It is important to treat the entire person, not just the cancer. Each cancer is unique, just as each patient is unique and both need to be addressed.

Unfortunately, my vast experience with doctors and hospitals has, in my mind, qualified me to write a medical version of Zagats. Because cold, emotionless, sometimes slimy, FISH FACE is often the norm, especially in large institutions such as Memorial Sloan Kettering, I will use "fish" symbols instead of stars or diamonds for my rating system.

In my medical version of Zagats, you don't want to see a fish by your name. For example, if you were to look up DICDOC (head plastic surgeon at MSK), you would find enough fish to fill an olympic sized swimming pool. You wouldn't have to read the review, you could smell it.

Out of the dozens upon dozens of staff members that I encountered at Johns Hopkins, only one person, a receptionist in a scheduling department, received a two-fish rating and when I complained, she apologized and assured me that I caught her on a bad day.

My radiology oncologist, Dr. Munster, and his attractive (but not annoyingly so) physician's assistant, Marsha Marsha Marsha, were my immediate go to people. Even when they were not physically in the room with me, I knew they were, and remain today, easily accessible. Their devotion, time, talent and willingness to treat my total being brought me comfort, clarity, and most important... HOPE.

I feel it's important to stress this because my last post may have suggested that I was unhappy with my care. Sure, it would have been great to be knocked out cold the minute I entered the hospital lobby, but I suspect this is impractical on many levels.

After my MRI meltdown, I discussed what would have made my situation more tolerable, and what set me over the edge, and both Dr. Munster and Marsha Marsha Marsha, listened attentively.

1. The no iphone docking capability, which destroyed my UP THE ASS playlist coping mechanism, was simply a misunderstanding.

2. The unknowingness of the precise technique and uncomfortableness of the MRI, was primarily the result of my reality break-down. I can only digest so much medical information before I reach a point where I am overwhelmed and mentally shut down.

3. Dr. Munster agreed not to incorporate "dreamy eyes and voice" when trying to get me to agree to something - in this case granting the baby faced residents a front row seat at my probing. But I get it. I get why he wanted them there. This is important work and he is their pioneer. It's also difficult to understand the depth of my vulnerability considering my assertive, often twisted, extraverted, personality.

Some of the things that happened inside the treatment room were traumatic and others were comical, but I will not go into great detail now out of respect for the study and it's importance in treating advanced rectal cancer. My hope is that one day, in the very near future, high dose internal radiation will become standard care.

I will say that, with my situation, a one hour scheduled radiation treatment turned into a three hour ordeal when, despite everyone's best efforts, it became difficult to align the radiation antennas to the "golden seeds" because my tumor, shaped somewhat like a slab of sicilian pizza, reacted to the radiation by folding into itself - creating a thicker mass which made the vessel insertion laborious and, to complicate matters more, the relentless probing (oh the joy) moved the tumor up the rectal wall.

I think it (the tumor) was scared. I think the fucker knew it didn't stand a chance against high dose radiation.

This meant Dr. Munster and/or Marsha, Marsha, Marsh, needed to insert, retract, and reinsert the vessel over a dozen times. And my male Asian technician, who I initially mistook for being meek and mild mannered, was unwilling to proceed until the alignment was "PERFECT."

In between vessel insertions, Dr. Munster attempted to maneuver the tumor back into place with his finger. In an effort to judge the distance from the anal verge to the tumor, Dr. Munster measured his index finger. I now know the exact length of Dr. Munster's fingers (8 inches). I assured Dr. Munster that that's nothing to be ashamed of and that some say the nose is a true penis size predictor (he has a tiny nose).

At one point, Dr. Munster had his finger so far up my ass that his thumb hovered directly above my clitoris. After I informed him of this, in his very best professionally voice he answered, "I am aware of that Ms. Kennedy." I was thrilled to finally see him blush.

With all of this now behind me (pun intended), I am pleased to report that I have stopped eating crackers in bed and drinking before noon. The side effects are tolerable, my energy level is almost normal, and I still don't look sick. A bit tired perhaps, and chubby, but not sick.

My next big step, after a few more tests, is surgery. It is scheduled for September 10th. Until then, I will focus on glorious, fun filled, summer days surrounded by those I love.


xo, MOnkeyME


Me and Dr. Munster 
(Notice that the picture is blurry.  Why???  Because a resident took it!)



As part of my cancer treatment Johns Hopkins gave to me....
FIVE... golden seeds, 
four days of radiations, 
three forms of medication, 
too asian technicians, 
and a GIANT vessel up my ass....


(I have got to get the Christmas tune out of my head.)


For a complete list of my ridiculous cancer journey see CATSTIR.

62 comments:

  1. So glad you made it through, even if it was... an experience that anyone would have PTSD after completing.

    You always create such fascinating words out of bad experiences.

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    1. Thank you Katy ! it's a weird thing but I'm often told my best writing comes from pain. I'm not sure what that says about me.

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  2. Joyful that that part of the journey is over.

    And u get to enjoy the rest of the summer too.

    Hoorah!!!

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    1. yes, as long as I keep my head in check - don't worry about tomorrow. live in today! :)))))

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  3. "As part of my cancer treatment Johns Hopkins gave to me..." OMG.

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    1. I still have 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, and 6 to work on. "waiter, more wine!!"

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  4. Holy Shit! What an ordeal you just came through. Or is it, What an ordeal through which you came? Ha! I am just happy to hear your sense of humor shining through after such a nightmare. I think many Oncologists have superior patient skills because it is such a roller coaster and more deeply personal than so many other specialties. I'm glad you have trust with your doc.
    Onward, Monkey!!!

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    1. thank you Denise! I met with 3 other radiology oncologists - one got a four-fish rating, the other two just didn't have the skills. I think Dr. Munster is a cut above the rest. His only flaw is his eyes, I can read them. So when he's concerned, I can tell. I need to stop looking at his face. :)

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    2. ... or recommend that he start wearing sunglasses so you can't see his expression in his eyes...

      *huggles*

      ~shoes~

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  5. Well, I'm glad that ordeal is over for you. May it prove to be successful beyond your wildest dreams! Enjoy the summer, you deserve it.

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    1. with the "standard" being 5 1/2 half weeks of EXTERNAL radiation with chemo - and the extreme side effects from the treatment, this was a no brainer for me. I'll still need the chemo but I like the idea of doing it post surgery. I don't want to walk into surgery with a compromised immune system. But there are doctors that say I'm under treating it - but I'm not listening to them. I'm listening to my gut and picking quality of quantity.

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  6. You made me laugh out loud! and at our age that is almost as good as an orgasm. Well, as always, I'm still a huge fan!! Your writing still never fails to capture my imagination with vivid details and gritty reality. You rock! I'm only sorry your doctor didn't give you a "happy ending." I bet he gets a huge kick out of you, and laughing is good.

    I am so impressed with your continued ability to write and share your experiences. It is such a gift to those of us who follow your journey to see it through your eyes and know your humanity and courage.

    Love always, INKY

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    1. Love you MORE Inky!!! If I didn't write it, I'd lose my mind. Have to get it out before I take it out on Slice, the dogs, the daughter, the cat....

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  7. I'm so glad you got through and that stupid tumour get scared (or whatever it was trying to do!). It's nice to be with people who listen, so YAY for a non-fish rating. Now rest up and good luck with the upcoming surgery. ~Catherine

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    1. thank you Catherine! I have an audio tape I listen to to prepare me for surgery. It's full of affirmations and visualizations that help me feel in control of my treatment. At the very least, I am no longer afraid to be put under. And I trust the team I've put in place. :)

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  8. Awesome post, Shannonkennedy! Funny, informative and hopeful! Love you!

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    1. ahhhhhhhh.... thank you sarararakat!!!! love you back! xoxo

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  9. That's a good news ! I'm sure everything will be ok, and your summer will be a beautiful one !!
    xx

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    1. thank you Flore! I'm going to give it my best shot!!! xoxo

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  10. Yay for you - I can soo hear the relief in your voice, er keyboard.

    Enjoy the Summer and don't let go of that HOPE :)

    Hugs and look! It's after noon, raise a glass in honor of your ass - and all it was able to handle :)

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    1. HOPE is huge..... and I'm clinging to it. cheers my friend!

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  11. Pinky said it all. I'm delighted you're ready for a long hot summer. Well deserved!
    I'll never hear that Christmas song again without smiling and thinking of you Shannon.
    Happy days to you and yours. xx

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    1. damn that Pinky aka Inky is wise! thank you Chad! Pappy and I are focused on travel... consider yourself warned!

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  12. CONGRATS GIRL FRIEND! You are officially in the "I kicked cancer's ass" club!

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    1. I don't feel like I earned it yet... I still have surgery, then chemo. but I soooo want to be in the club!!!

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  13. It's amazing that you have such a good sense of humor after this ordeal. I love seeing your smile in these pictures. So glad you plan to enjoy these summer days.

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    1. seriously, I let the "senior resident" take the picture of dr. munster and I.... so glad I didn't let him place a probe up my ass.

      If I can stay in the NOW, I will enjoy each day. must stay in the now!

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  14. Hey Girlfriend :)
    If there can be a silver lining to all this mess, I would have to say your writing has gotten better. Can there be a connection between a butt probe and writer's block? Anyway, REALLY glad your done and know we're thinkin' about you here in NC.
    Love Ya! M & D
    (still haven't got the anonymous thingy figured out :/ )

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  15. For what it's worth, I love to hear the rest of the carol...

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    1. good luck on your walk Juli! and I'll start working on that soon :)

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  16. So glad that ordeal is over! Enjoy the rest of your summer and we'll all be watching out for you in September.

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  17. I agree with sarabarakats comments!! love you my teatimefriend!

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  18. oh, Shannon - what a fabulous writer you are! and I so admire all the after-thoughts on the whole ordeal - fair, balanced and some wickedly funny observations. the fish rating - i'm totally going with that in the future! dr. munster is adorable - you, dear girl, look radiant in those photos. I hope you know that sharing your story written from both your heart and your beautiful mind is helping others. it's annoying to have an earworm, but I will think of wonderful you each time that Christmas song echoes in my head.

    sending you my love and the big shiny light of hope, XOXOXOXO

    Karen, TC

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    1. I'm devouring the writing praise...thank you Karen!

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  19. Hey you!! You have to get better so you can go to VooDoo Fest down in NOLA this year!!! I will meet you there!!

    *huggles*

    ~shoes~

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  20. Dr. Suess would be so proud...he'd smile and say

    "You've done what you're scared of
    And done it with grace
    A joke on your lips, a grin on your face
    You've affected so many
    With your stories and humor
    Catstir is shaking...and soon will be no more..."

    Don't forget to nap when necessary....

    xoxoxoxoxo

    MG

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  21. Yay! You're through the radiation, now enjoy your holiday time! I remember I felt like it was the end of term and summer holidays beginning.

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    1. honestly Pirate Girl, I didn't feel like I deserved to ring the bell because I only had 4 treatments. I think what you went through had to have been much worse.

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  22. I love the way your mind works, even when you may think it's not working so well. You are clever in a way that I'm envious of. I have thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written.
    Jesse

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    1. THANK YOU JESSE, I need to write more. Who knows what will come out once the chemo kicks in. LOVE YOU!

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  23. So happy to have been of service...and to have served you...and your ass...well.

    Shannon...let me make one thing perfectly clear...it is that..."assertive, often twisted, extraverted, personality"...of yours that brought us together. Yes...that...MOTHER FUCKER...cordeiro...(small letters...for a small man)...may have set the wheels in motion...but it was you...and your magnificent words...that drew me in.

    Once again there are tears in my eyes as I type....I truly love you...and I am most fortunate to have found you.

    Ricki

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    1. stop making me cry! and no one, and I mean NO ONE, say's, "FUCK," "FUCKING," or "MOTHER FUCKER" better than you!

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  24. Okay. Why am I always LAUGHING when I am at your site? This is serious shit and I am simultaneously peeing my pants and laughing my ass off.
    Go girl. Give 'em Hell.
    Then write a best-seller about it.
    ~Just Jill

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    1. EXACTLY the response I was looking for! Thank you Jill!

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  25. More monkey love <3

    Your post made me smile, and I hope you do as well. Keep up the funny, keep up the going :-)

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    1. thank you Ben!!!! :) you're such a giving person. I still have the monkey card you made me... it's in a special place so that I see it daily.

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  26. I have yet to stop thinking about your post--so I chose it for my "Blog du Jour" offering on the "Nut tree...".
    I know. You're speechless right?
    Thanks for the inspired writing, scathing wit and sparkly humor!
    ~Just Jill

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    1. Thank you Jill!!!! I love that it stuck with you and that you added it to "blog du jour" - I have no idea what a nut tree is. will check it out now. many thanks from monkey me!

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  27. Just ran across your blog Shannon, and what a day to do so--right after your brachy post! I had VAGINAL brachytherapy, and can relate intimately (har har) to your experience. The best news is you're done and everything else will be downhill from here. Hang in there!

    ~D.

    PS If you're up to my take on humiliation, see 'WHAT kind of Cancer?' Hope you find some humor there....

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    1. So glad we found each other Dee! You know, I've been giving the vaginal vs rectal cancer treatment embarrassment comparison serious thought, even before you mentioned it. So far (and this could change at any moment) I think vaginal marginally a step ahead in the humiliation department.

      Heading over to "what kind of cancer" now!

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  28. My butt is hurting just reading this post. I do have a friend who's mother used John Hopkins to treat her lung and breast cancer. both went great so I have high hopes for you!

    Yes live for today!!

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    1. I am trying... I swear I am. but its not easy. thanks for reading!

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  29. Yes Pinky is spot on, again. All I can do is shake my head, in awe at your courage and thank you for sharing it with the world.
    I have a good feeling about your team at JH. I LOVE that they listened to you.

    FUCK CANCER

    xoxoxoxooxxoxooxoxoxoxooooxoxoxx
    DB

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    1. I love my team at JH! and yes, they listen and most important I trust them. trust is huge. I love you!!! xoxo

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  30. Shannon, dear Shannon! I am breathing a sigh of relief. I have been remiss in my follow-up with you and was prompted to check on you when someone on the TE thread on BCO asked how you are doing. And I can tell them you are back home and in rare monkey form! You made me laugh, and that is how I know you are BACKKKKK!

    Your friend Ricki deserves major props for insisting you finally get IV-sedated.

    A book is in your future, my dear. Now go chase summer and store up some awesome monkey me adventures!!

    xoxo

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    1. it's so nice to know that someone was asking about me. I try not to go there anymore. I don't want to push anyone into a panic, 'this could happen to you' mode. soooo... glad I made you laugh and Ricki is the queen of assertiveness. she's a great one to have in my corner!

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  31. Your sense of humor through all this....and all the catstir crap you went through BEFORE this....has been so important!! I love you for your strength, humor, kindness, etc.etc.! And WOW, that Dr. Munster is a CUTIE! :)

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    1. that Dr. Munster is not "my type" but I'm trying to embrace his adorableness :)
      much love back at YOU Becky. you are generous with your words and, always, your heart. xoxo

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  32. Holy Shit! I know you went through IT and MORE!!! but you had me wincing, and smiling at the same time. That doesn't happen too often... So sorry for all that you have been going through, but damn girl you have a way of tellin it! Is your surgery in Balt. as well?
    Sue

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    1. Thanks for reading Sue. Yes, surgery is also in Baltimore. I am supposed to be in the hospital for a week to 10 days. One of the other great things about Johns Hopkins is that all the rooms are private and Mark is allowed and encouraged to stay with me in the room. They believe (as I do) that love aids in healing. How wonderful is that!!!

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Thank you for encouraging my JOY of writing. By reading and commenting you are feeding my soul, stroking my heart, and in the end...making me a better writer.

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing
greenmonkeytales@live.com

Shannon E. Kennedy

***

Photo by Joan Harrison