Now let’s go down, down where the sun don’t shine. They make their own harmful radiation there.
Then down this hall …….
……and then this hall
To …….. Linac C!
OK, they have done some work to make it a bit more ‘gemütlich’; recessed pink lighting, wood panelling, lots of space. But it is similar to chemo therapy; it has to hurt you to save you. Today after my 11:00 of focused sunshine (radiation) I could feel the burn on my neck. I’m now moisturizing my neck and face, something of which this acne-ridden teenager never dreamed. Of course, 51 is a ways away from 17!
The kind and helpful radiation therapists, Dameon (sp) and Kristine, ease me into this setting w/ non-rushed amiability. I empty my pockets, put in my mouthpiece, get on the steel plank, rest my head in the tray, put my knees up to straighten the spine and sort of wedge me into place, and then ……………
All you gotta do is get your mind right. I know the routine; a few minutes of calibration, then the buzzing starts for one pass, then stops, then starts for another pass, then they come out to unlock me. Yes, I am locked down from the chest to the head. Good thing too; I’d rather have ol’ Linac hit the target than my brain. Or eye.
I prefer to keep my lips open a bit, but still breathe through my nose. I’ve even got a little better at controlling the saliva drip into my throat. Just get your mind right. Part of the job, you know.
One week, and I feel 98% fine. Just a little sunburn. No nausea. No constipation. No mysterious emotions. Dr. Rosove (chemo) even said that he wished all of his patients were so easy. He also mentioned something about Week #2, and beyond. Uhhhhhh, we’ll see.