She said there is a 65% chance I don't need "them," the doctors, I presume. Radiation increases my chances by 35-40% and there is a 5% chance I won't make it, with which I don't agree. So, the numbers don't add up, and I wrote them down, but, clearly, increasing one's odds by 35% makes it worthwhile, and I will do the 33 radiation treatments. It will take about an hour out of my day, plus driving time, two hours, plus, resting time, ah, maybe four. : )
Tomorrow the machine and I meet, and I have a long appointment to get set up and trained. Until then, I am to practice breathing in slowly and steadily and holding my breath for 15-20 seconds. We have the top radiation equipment in Marin. They will do a simulation of the whole thing. There is a 1% chance of damage to someone's lung, not mine. I will be sore and tired, and, it is not that bad. This is not chemo. She is very clear about that. She said you are "in chemo." This is different. I go for two set-up treatments, and then, 33 more. A piece of cake, it seems. I'll see just what kind of cake it is, soon enough. I will probably start the treatments next Thursday.
I see the chemo oncologist tomorrow, also, and she will better explain the drug Arimidex to me. Considerately, Dr. Halberg set it up so I have my two visits combined into one day, as she is aware it is hard not to feel a little sick, at this point, when one thinks of driving to 1350 S. Eliseo Drive. The new entry is almost complete though, and the doors swing open automatically. It is quite exciting.
I sat in the meditation garden today, and,then, realized that offices surround it, so it is like sitting in a fish bowl, and therefore, a bit disconcerting. I need a little more privacy to close my eyes, but it is lovely, and I checked out the plants for my yard.