Welcome to Gen Z Translator. This is What’s Up Wednesday, where I give you a personal update on a Wednesday. Clever, right? If you’re new, you can subscribe here and follow me on Threads, Instagram, or X. . Views and experiences my own.
Since starting radiation, I’ve noticed that the concept is a tad enigmatic. I, myself, had a vision of an interrogation-type room with an orange beam set to laser me from afar while I wore sunglasses. That’s not quite what it’s like.
Youtuber Grace Helbig tried to describe how it feels different from the chemotherapy ward. I think I’ve decided that it feels a lot more intimate – the waiting room is smaller, which makes the ambience more serious.
For some people, radiation is their main form of treatment. This applies to certain inoperable cancers, like brain cancer or lung cancer. For me, radiation is a second line of defense, zapping the site to make sure everything is banished once and for all. I have 15 consecutive sessions, meaning a treatment a day excluding weekends and holidays. It takes about 20 minutes, start to finish.
First, at my hospital, radiation is split into two waiting rooms, one in the main hub and another by the individual treatment rooms. You walk back to it yourself, following the convenient trail of leaves on the carpet. You can bring your support team with you. Then, you walk into a changing room where (if you’re like me and have to undress in the room), you put on a gown.
I will say, it’s obvious to spot breast cancer patients – we all wear the same pink gown that ties in the front. Love the color pink, but I’m getting a tad sick of the color.
Once you’ve changed, you’re called by your technicians to follow them to the room. If you’ve ever had an MRI, it’s very similar to that, except the machine in the center is open instead of closed. I’ve taken to calling it the Cyclops in my head, since it’s like a giant eye that rotates around you.
The staff are amazing and kind. By my second session, they knew I liked a room-temperature blanket and already had my pop music playing. They make me feel comfortable with warm chitchat. I felt like I was walking into a party instead of a hospital room.
Because they have Spotify, I can pick any music I’d like. It sounds like a small detail, but having fun music makes a huge difference. I’ve had MRIs where I’ve had to lie there for 30 minutes in dead silence. I’ve also had ones where they could only play radio stations, meaning I was stuck listening to commercials. Not too fun when you can’t move.
I don’t see the laser, exactly, but I do hear it. It’s a high-pitched buzzing noise. A sign on the wall also lights up to say “Beam in use.” My techs take cover in an observation room and watch me via cameras on the ceilings to make sure the machine is lined up and I’m doing alright. They’ll usually do some preliminary adjusting at the beginning.
Since my tumor was on the left side, I have to do breath work to avoid radiating my heart. A blue box is placed on my stomach, and an iPad-like screen hangs over my face with a bar that bounces up and down as I breathe. When they say so over the intercom, I’m instructed to inhale until the bar gets into a white rectangle about a third of the way up and hold it there for about ten to twenty seconds.
Then, I’m done! I cover up and head back to the room to change. My techs say “See you tomorrow,” because for three weeks in a row, they will see me tomorrow. I think it’ll be bittersweet to finish my treatments, since I look forward to seeing my technicians every day.
The site gets a little sore and the skin, a bit red, but overall the side effects for me haven’t been too bad. Another possible side effect is fatigue – from the radiation or having to show up every day, I’m not sure. My hospital gives us a free valet pass during treatment, which helps.
So, that’s what radiation is like! For me, at least. I’m grateful for an amazing medical team and non-invasive treatments made as bearable as possible. I wanted to shine some light on the process, since I know I was confused about it at the beginning, too. To my techs I say, I’ll see you tomorrow!