During RAI

This is my experience.
I lived it, so I wrote it the way I lived it.
Yours might look like mine, or nothing like it. Either way is fine.

I’m not a doctor, and this isn’t medical advice.
Your doctor is the reference. Always.
I’m only here to tell you roughly what’s coming, and what it feels like from the inside.

And the first thing I’ll tell you:
the fear before the pill is bigger than the pill itself.
I read it from many people before me. Then I lived it myself.

1 · The pill

That morning, I had the injection. They’d taken blood earlier.
Then the doctor came in, explained what would happen, and left.

After him, a technician came and stood behind a metal door.
He tells you what to do, and brings in the pill.
And here the fear ticks up a little: the pill comes on a small trolley, inside a heavy, reinforced crate that looks like it’s carrying something very dangerous.

They set a small cup in front of you, with a tiny hole in it, and something like a straw.
They hold one end; you take it and swallow.
Simple.

Me? I picked up the cup to drink from it, like it was any cup.
Trust me, it was unbelievably heavy.
That weight alone told me everything about how much shielding was around it.

The pill itself is easy. The hard part comes after.
And the whole time, one thing kept running through my head:
how in awe I am of modern medicine.
I can’t believe we actually do something like this.

2 · The room

The first thing you notice: everything is wrapped in plastic.
My phone, the table, the remotes, even the chairs.
The rule is simple: either it’s wrapped, or you’re ready to throw it away. Nothing in between.

Beside me they put a small lined bucket, just in case.
And on the floor they laid out paper, the kind you put down for puppies, in case I didn’t reach the bathroom in time.
A strange sight, but it makes sense.

The room itself was spacious, its window locked, greenery behind it for me to look at.
Above the bed sits a machine that measures radiation, so you have to lie at an exact height.
We moved the bed by accident, my friend and I, and the nurse had to set it all up again with a ruler. I felt a little guilty.

3 · The rules of being radioactive

After the pill, they ask you to lie completely flat, horizontal, for two hours.
The nice part: you can use your phone, talk, listen, do whatever you like, as long as you stay lying down.

For the next two days, every three hours they call you on the phone and ask you to lie down for ten minutes so they can take a reading.
And outside the room there’s a small screen that measures the radiation level inside.

The food has its own little dance:
you set your table by the door, then run to the far side of the room, behind the cupboard.
Then the nurse comes in, puts the food down, and leaves, and you come back to get it.

And every day: clean sheets, two showers, fresh clothes (they give you pajamas).
And no one comes in. Just you and your room.

4 · How it actually felt

Isolation is hard. I won’t lie to you.
But for me, it wasn’t as bad as I expected.

I’m a quiet person to begin with.
My normal day: my bed, a screen, my phone.
So it felt a bit like home, just without my usual Netflix.

The strange thing is I kept waiting for it to go wrong.
I’d say to myself: why do I feel fine?
Everything passed so calmly that I started to suspect the calm.

I filled the hours however I could:
I sat by the window.
I did a little photoshoot of myself, purely out of boredom.
I listened to audiobooks, played some games, and reassured my family and friends.

And still, one feeling stayed with me:
looking around and seeing everything wrapped in plastic.
Going through something few people go through. A particular kind of isolation.

But listen:
this is my experience.
Yours might be heavier, harder, longer. And that’s normal, there’s nothing wrong with it.
Isolation differs from person to person. No one is asking you to be okay.

5 · What to pack

Most hospitals provide the basics, so you may not need to bring your own.
But from my experience, take with you:

• Hair conditioner. They usually don’t provide it. A small amount is enough, then you throw it away.
• A loofah or shower puff. They usually give you soap only, nothing to scrub with, and you shower twice a day.
• A charger and your devices. But wrap them in plastic from home, because anything you touch in the first two days becomes radioactive.

And watch out for one important thing:
anything porous, like books or fabric, is hard to clean.
However much you miss a paper book, don’t bring it unless you’re ready to throw it away.
Instead: an e-reader, a laptop, or your phone. All wrapped.

And if you’re someone who gets cold, bring a cheap jumper you won’t mind tossing.
I bought one and didn’t even need it, the room wasn’t cold.

Two last tips:

• Arrange someone to help you beforehand. My friend carried out what I didn’t need and took it home.
• Download everything you want to watch or listen to in advance, the hospital wifi may not work.

And one last thing: don’t over-prepare like me.
I brought a lot with me, then used barely half of it.

6 · Food and the body

On the first day, they advised me not to have too much food or drink, to avoid nausea.
And I was very hungry, because I’d fasted since the morning, took the pill in the afternoon, then waited two hours after.
So my first meal was in the evening. Hungry, but fine.

They gave me a strong anti-nausea medicine, once before the pill and once at night.

I’d prepared myself for everything:
a dry-mouth spray, sour candy, and lots of water.
They say loss of taste, dry mouth, and nausea are common after treatment.

But I was lucky. None of it happened to me.
And I’ll say it plainly: that was my luck, not a rule.
You might get nausea, and your taste might change or your mouth might go dry.
That’s common, and usually temporary, easing within weeks.
But for a few it can linger, especially dry mouth.
And either way: check with your doctor, the reference is them.

7 · What others shared online

Before I went, I read a lot.
Facebook groups, Reddit posts, people who’d been through what I was about to.
From them I learned what to expect. From them I knew I wasn’t alone.
But remember: these are personal experiences, not medical rulings. Your doctor stays the reference.

One practical thing people ask about a lot: how do you get home?
You stay radioactive for a while, and you have to keep your distance from people.

I chose the simplest route:
my friend brought my car back, then left it for me at the hospital door.
So I got straight into my own car, without sharing a closed space with anyone.

You’re usually advised to avoid public transport, and to drive alone if you can.
That’s what I did: I didn’t want to expose anyone to radiation.
And if you have no other option, that’s okay, everyone has their own circumstances.
Ask your hospital about the details, they know best.

In closing

And in the end:
the experience passed, and it was lighter than what I feared.
But I won’t promise you anything. Your experience is yours, and mine is mine.
All I know is that you’ll get through this, the way I got through it.

We are not alone.

Disclaimer

This isn’t medical advice. It’s personal experience and patient-community knowledge. Protocols differ by hospital, country, dose, and prep method. Always go back to your own medical team and pharmacist for anything about your case.