Oh cancer, you sneaky bastard. Just when I thought the physical pain was over, you hit me with psychological torture like I’ve never experienced before… here’s what I mean:
Today I had my first radiation treatment (of 17). I also had my first panic attack EVER…the photo above illustrates why.
Two weeks ago I went in for a radiation simulation. During the simulation they take a CT scan and mold a hard plastic “mask” to your face (see the “net” on the woman’s face above). The doctor uses this preliminary scan to plan the field of radiation and determine the body positioning for treatment. The purpose of the mask is to hold your head in the exact same position for each treatment. During the simulation it wasn’t that bad…but today I FREAKED OUT.
After shuffling around the table to make sure my body was correctly positioned, they strapped my head down to the table with the mask. I felt my anxiety spike, but calmed down, until they put me in the machine.
My radiation treatment takes place in a tube, similar to a CT scan. I was laying inside the tube when I realized I couldn’t swallow. Well, I could swallow, but not completely because of the way my head was positioned. So here I am, my head strapped to the table, totally immobilized, in a big tube, unable to swallow. I started thinking about what would happen if I started choking, and how I couldn’t move. My heart started pounding, I started sweating, and I was trembling. I couldn’t control my breathing and I was certain that I would die right there. It was incredibly terrifying. I started to flail my legs and scream for the nurses. Luckily they were just taking a CT scan of me (to compare to the one I had taken weeks ago and ensure proper body position). So they took me out of the tube.
The nurse came in and noticed I was panicking. I told her that I needed to get the mask of NOW. She removed it and offered to cut off the nose so I wouldn’t feel so claustrophobic. Unfortunately it didn’t help. She put the mask back on and told me she was sending me back into the tube to finish the CT scan and begin the treatment.
For eleven minutes I sat in that tube with that damn mask on my face trying to keep my breathing under control. The nurses were playing Eric Clapton in the tube for me so I attempted to focus on Layla and Tears in Heaven, not my anxiety.
Finally, I got through it. I asked my oncologist if he could prescribe something to get me through it and he wants to wait and see how I react tomorrow. That’s the worst part…I have to do this EVERY DAY (Monday-Friday) for almost four weeks!
I’m gonna need a shit ton of Ativan or Xanax.
