“Mapping” is a common term in radiation oncology. Basically, they take images of where your organs are located in your body and map how best (read: safely) to radiate you without hitting other vital organs. If you didn’t quite catch that – yes—our organs are not always in the same place. In my particular case the organ in question was that well known superstar – the heart. The more central my heart was the better it would fair in radiation but the further it lay to the left of my chest the more dangerous the 8 week procedure would be. (Thank you MGH, you saved me from cancer but gave me heart disease).
So on the day of mapping I said a prayer and figured it was out of my hands. I walked in and met two young sassy technicians. I could imagine they shed their scrubs at night and perused the boston nightlife wearing shiny shirts and sunglasses. They introduced themselves and explained they’d be taking digital pictures of everything today to document my case. I made the obligatory “I hope I won’t see my boobs on the internet” joke and we were off.
After the first few xrays I noticed there was a pause in momentum. It was when I saw my radiation oncologist that I knew something was up. He came over, an older, distugueshed man with a gorgeous accent. If I had to cast him in a movie I’d probably pick Omar Sharif (circa 1990) to play him.
Anyway, at this point, Dr. Omar walks over and utters words no one dreams of hearing. “your heart is in the worst possible spot.” NOT — “I’m sorry, our technology for healing you is not advanced enough to protect you”. And certainly NOT “you have an enormous heart and unfortunately it’s in our way”.
He then asked me to take a deep breathe and hold it. So I channeled my inner yoga guru and pulled in the deepest breath I could manage. Instantly the look on his face and the 3 other people in the room changed. “you’re a great breather” he said. “well,” I said “I’ve been working on it all my life”. A quick chuckle and the mapping continued…
