Breasts, Hormones, and Creatures from Outer Space

Today the lead therapist looked at my breast as I was being positioned for radiation. She asked me, "What are you taking for that?"

Confused, I said, "Uh...nothing?" I mean, obviously my skin stings, but for some reason I never thought of actually taking anything for it.

"That's gotta hurt," she said sympathetically. "Try ibuprofen to bring down the swelling. If you normally take 4, take 6."

I'm pretty sure she meant that if I take 400 mg normally, take 600, but I really want to go in tomorrow and tell her I'm feeling great, especially after taking six Advil! Ha!

* * * * *

Afterwards, over lunch with my friend Sue, we were discussing radiation. I was telling her about how some people don't burn until after radiation therapy is over, unlike lucky me who burned early. I was theorizing that what the doctors should do is plunge us into ice water or something to stop the process. You know, as one last step before sending us on our way at the end of treatment.

She considered this and said, "Like when you do blanching."

"Yeah, that's it." I said, happy to have the right term. "I think they should dip everyone in ice water after radiation is all done. I'm going to suggest it to the radiation oncologist when I next see her. It makes perfect sense to me. Maybe I could draw a sketch of the dipping mechanism."

However, then I got home and found out that I still couldn't sketch my ideas in recognizable form. I'm envisioning a big wire basket that patients can get into that dips them into the pool. I guess I'll just have to explain it with words. You think my radiation oncologist will like the idea?

* * * * *

When I got home, I called UCSF to get the results of the estradiol test that I had done on the sixth. This test measures your hormone levels to see if you are menopausal. It turns out the test indicates that I am definitely not post-menopausal, as my oncologist expected. Now, I know that estrogen is kind of seen as the enemy of a cancer like mine (with hormone receptors) but I can't help but feel secretly pleased at my body's fighting spirit. Suddenly I think, you know, I may want my own, naturally produced estrogen in five years. I'm always rooting for the underdog, which happens to be my ovaries in this case, even if that's not who should win. Go, ovaries, go!

Sheesh.

In other news, I looked outside the bedroom window to see a potato bug lying on its back, apparently dead. What is it with these evil creatures, always crawling up from underground to die outside my bedroom?

It was a year ago when I encountered my first potato bug. I had no idea what it was. It looked for all the world like a small alien who had crash landed on this planet, just made it outside it's flying saucer, and then fell dead with fright when it saw how big the natives are.

Seriously, doesn't this look like an alien?

I was so horrified when I saw it - these suckers are BIG! - that I did what any obsessive-compulsive person with a bug phobia would do. I took my camera outside, put on a good lens and switched to macro mode, then leaned inches away from it and photographed the creature! All while trying not to pass out.

Identifying it though, was not so easy. Most my friends looked at the photo and just said, "Ew, GROSS!" So I had to look at hundreds of bug photos online, trying to find a match. I was pretty sure it was related to cricket family (it turns out potato bugs are Jerusalem Crickets) but I had no clue other than that. I would look at bug photos for half an hour until I had to take a break for fear I would throw up. Then I would look some more. Yeah, makes a LOT of sense...sure.

Finally, I identified the extraterrestrial and had a name to go on. This led me to the fabulous web site, PotatoBugs.com, which tells you everything you need to know about the evil that these creatures possess. Seriously, you must visit it. Pretty much sums up how I feel about the beasts.

I left today's visitor alone for most of the day, but around 4 pm I had to run outside and photograph that one, too. Don't ask me why. As I leaned close I noticed...it's still breathing! Oh, UGH!

Let's hope this season they manage to keep to themselves a little better than last season. It's in everybody's best interest, especially all the friends I can't help but send photos to.

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