Radiation

I've started my radiation treatment.

Yawn.

Compared to chemotherapy, this is like skipping with a pinwheel in my hand down a grassy hill on a spring day.

If I'm not comparing the two, then I'd say that it's a huge inconvenience and my boob hurts.  But I'd only say that in a whisper, because I don't want to ever have to be reminded just how awful chemo felt.

My first treatment was on 2/29.  Leap day...cool, eh?

Here's how it goes:

• take everything from the waist up off and put on the gown
• wait for the tech to come and get me
• wait
• wait
• tap foot
• wait
• consider picking up a magazine
• go into the radiation room
• lay on the table, in the form that was created for me
• expose my chest in the cold bright lights of the room
• while listening to country music that is blasting in from above
• let the techs scootchy my body around until I'm lined up to the millimeter
• they leave me and go behind some sort of lead filled wall
• I don't move for fear of getting set on fire (okay, that wouldn't really happen, but it could get me in big trouble)
• I hear the zapping for about 10 seconds (country music can't drown out the rays of a gazillion dollar machine)
• machine rotates to the other side and zaps me again
• Done

The first day, I was sure that I smelled something burning when the machine was about 8 seconds in.  It's amazing what my little old brain can create.  

The second day, I got shunned for moving myself on the table.  You see, it's not MY job to get myself into position for the machine.  Since they are moving me by millimeters, that makes great sense.  I still can't get past not just "doing myself".  He says, "just lay there and don't move...I'll do all the work."  Ah...if I had a nickle...

When I was waiting yesterday to be called in, I picked up a leather bound book that was titled, "Share Your Experience".  I opened it and found pages upon pages that started with, "Hi, my name is..."  Lisa, Debbie, Janie, so many women that had "been there, done that" and got through it.  Some were there for the same reason that I was and some were there for other areas of the body.  Lots mentioned and thanked God for getting them this far.  Lots thanked the staff at EpicCare.  All had their own special words that they took the time to put here for others to hold on to and embrace.  It was like a book of hugs.  

I had to put my hug in there.  I started out just like all the others.  "Hi, my name is Kim".  I wrote a few lines of my story and then left the rest of the page blank with the exception of a few dashes down the page.  I plan on going back to the book over the course of my 33 treatments with updates.

A story that will continue.