Soon after I wrote my blog on Friday the 8th my computer decided to quit getting on the Internet. Gregg worked on it for a long time but it did not respond well. It would pretend to be fixed and then refuse to publish and then it would not go to the Internet. I have written all of the happenings since the 8th in my Journal. I will copy my account of the past six or seven days from my Journal because I wrote those notes with feelings that were current at the time of writing. So here goes.
I wrote last, about my Friday treatment which was my eighteenth. It was fairly routine but still hard for me because I have not yet gotten completely over the dread of being locked down to the table in that odious mask.
The relief of knowing that I had Saturday and Sunday free and then just two treatments to face on Monday and Tuesday buoyed my spirits somewhat. The pain has increased as the days go by. Sometimes there is an absolute piercing pain that lasts a few seconds and then settles down to a dull ache. My hair has caused me much distress. It is so filled with the gel type substance that is spread on the area each day and nothing can be done about it. I cannot get that area wet nor can I disturb the blue markings that outline the area of my head to be radiated. I have become very attached to my hats and 4x4 gauze pads.
When I went in for the treatment on Monday, I went with a feeling of peace because I knew the end was in sight. At the end of the treatment, I was unbuckled from the table and after they removed the mask I gave a sigh of relief and remarked, "Tomorrow is my last treatment!"
"Oh no, no," Jennifer said, "you have three more treatments to go. This was just your seventeenth."
I protested stubbornly and kept insisting that it was my nineteenth. She finished cleaning me up and placing the gauze on the wound and then took me out to her station and showed me my records. She showed me the prescription written by Dr. Wharton that called for 20 treatments and then showed me my chart that they had kept on my progress. The last entry for me said "17th treatment" and with today's entry it would be the 18th, indicating that I had two more to go. I was devastated! Especially since I KNEW that it was the 19th treatment!
I had convinced myself that I could tolerate one more encounter with the mask and now they were saying I had two more to go. I was so depressed and down and dispirited that I could hardly stand it. I went home and tried to sleep as much as I could so I could quit obsessing about it. At this point in the ordeal I had reached the point of total fatigue. I was so exhausted and tired of trying to keep a good attitude and all I wanted to do was cry.
On Tuesday Brian took me and unfortunately I had my melt down on the trip up there. I ranted and raved about the mess and disorder in the house, I whined about the pain and discomfort and the unfairness of the fact that I had to go again the next day when I thought I was finished, I had lots of pity for me and I really let it all out. He finally asked if I would like to trade with him. I know he is still struggling to get his house back in order from the fire he had last spring and he is facing surgery for a double hernia and he was coughing with a heavy cold. I agreed that I didn't want to trade. I know you should look about when you are feeling down and out!
When I went into the chamber to prepare for the treatmenton Tuesday Jennifer said she thought the doctor should look at the site before we began because she thought I might have an infected area. She left to get my doctor and returned shortly saying that he was with a patient in the hospital and could not see me till later. She left again to see if she could get one of his associates to look at me. She was gone a long time, that time and she finally came back in with a doctor. He looked closely at my head and said no, it looked OK to him. He then leaned down to me and put his hand on my knee and very gently, quietly said, "...and you are right, this IS your last treatment!" I promptly said that it was no surprise to me, that I was right! He laughed and Jennifer handed me my graduation from therapy certificate and a bag of Hershey Hugs and Kisses. He hugged me, too and then left us to the business at hand. Afterwards, I met with my doctor and I have to go back to see him in two weeks. HE knew it was my 20th treatment.
I had rewarded myself with a new pair of shoes, my first new shoes in way more than a year, and even though I thought I was going to have to have an extra few treatments I had worn my shoes for my own private celebration! They are so cute!
I will write more tomorrow because I must give the after affects of the whole ordeal. I am already getting some of my energy back and I expect to continue to improve. Ciao,ciao
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