Wham bam, thank you, Mammogram.
I was pretty nervous going for my first post-DCIS surgery and treatment routine mammogram and waiting for the results, but I'm happy to report it's all good! Phew! Breast MRI in 6 months, mammo in a year and so on and so forth. (Lumpectomy/radiation-treated breast was quite a bit tenderer than the other, for what it's worth, in case someone recently diagnosed or going for first post-treatment mammogram is curious. Don't hesitate to ask.)
Yesterday one of my favorite radio stations, KEXP in Seattle, was doing this awesome Music Heals show all day in conjunction with Seattle Cancer Care Alliance Proton Therapy Center. I wrote in to share my story and request a song, as that's what they were asking people to do. It was a beautiful show, with many people writing in to tell poignant stories about cancer and music healing. Because hot damn, does music ever heal.
I requested Beach House, because not only am I madly in love with them, but I listened to them nearly every day when I was having radiation therapy for six weeks. The sound system in Radiation Oncology is surprisingly good. Kurt Vile and Courtney Barnett also sounded fantastic in there while I was getting zapped.
Obsessed with this Beach House song and video, by the way, and want to live in it forever:
The radiation machine is very futuristic, which is heartening, as you wouldn't want it to be two rocks being rubbed together or a slingshot with lightening coming out of it. Honestly, though, I had no idea what to expect before going in there for the first time. Here's what the machine looks like:
I'll keep this one short as I'm heading to New Jersey to visit my family in a little bit and need to finish packing. Speaking of family, my sisters and I texted back and forth a lot yesterday as I waited at Mount Auburn Hospital's Hoffman Breast Center for the results of my mammogram. I was, understandably, nervous. My intuition told me everything was OK, but you can't help but worry when your first mammogram, only a year ago, was not a good one. I joked with my sisters about how dense our breasts are and my sister Nancy wrote, "Mine are like Valley Girls!" Ha!
Humor. As healing as music. And love and connection with people who see you, care about your wellbeing, and are there for you. Sounds like a cliché, but is true. I feel lucky that I have all of those things and people.
How was your week? Did you get any body parts pressed into any machines? I hope you are well and laughing and healthy and happy.
It's me, Jennifer Bernice (rhymes with "Furnace": it was my Granny's name) Sutkowski
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