No news is good news

I haven't had the urge or need to write, because really, nothing exciting or interesting is happening regarding my cancer experience.  I have completed more than half of my radiation treatments at this point, with 15 more left on the schedule.  My boob is red and the skin under my armpit, on my side, is very brown.  I've been applying my special cream twice a day...liberally.  I'm trying to prevent the peeling and blistering that I've been warned about, but am feeling like I'm just conditioning a baseball glove.  The skin is going to be a nice soft leather when this is all over and done with.  Sexy, eh?

My newest personal challenge is to hit the mark without adjustment.  See, when I get on the radiation table, I'm laying on a sheet.  The two technicians do this back and forth game of pulling back and forth to get me lined up. My tattoos must align with the beams.  Sometimes this only takes five or six pulls, sometimes much more effort goes in.  Well, once...and only once...I laid down perfectly.  I found myself incredibly proud to have done this, which is really silly, but nevertheless, I was tickled.  Maybe because the techs were in disbelief?  Do I get thrills from stumping the techs?  I think I've got some deep issues going on here...

The other challenge that has presented itself is losing weight.  The weekly doctor visit weigh-in got me motivated to start dieting.  Or rather, to stop gaining weight.  * embarrassed laughter*  The chemo bloat is now gone and I'm working on losing the fat that I gained during the OHSHITIHAVECANCER phase of my life.

That's it for now.  Oncologist appointment at the end of the month and I'm going to beg to get my port removed. Beg.  Plead.  I'll even throw some tears in if needed.