February 3rd — Are you bored with my radiation blogs yet? I am and I have 30 more to go. Sigh. Over the weekend, the surgical tape came off that had my center X on it that was originally used to do my CT scan a week before I began radiation treatment. I was told to make sure to keep those Xs on my body until I began radiation when the radiation techs could remark me daily. Since the tech had put the tape on while the ink was still wet, the ink stuck to the tape instead of my skin. I didn’t say anything then because heaven knows these folks have done this thousands of times before and I’m not about to tell them how to do their job, but it didn’t seem like the best idea at the time. So, the tape comes off and the X comes off with it instead of leaving a faint mark on my skin. The radiation techs freak out a bit and tell me I may have to have my mapping CT redone and the dosimetrist and radiation oncologist will have to make a new plan and I’ll have to begin this hell all over again. Really? I know I only made it through calculus and any conversation involving higher math will likely lose me, but I have multiple marks elsewhere on my body, can’t they triangulate and figure this out? Again, I say nothing because this isn’t my job but I lay still and expect the doctor to come in and chastise me at any minute. Sigh. Instead, the radiation techs begin my radiation that day so obviously they weren’t too worried about not hitting the targets. At the end of the treatment, they came in and remarked the center X. When I asked them about that, they explained that they backed through my treatment using my other Xs to basically triangulate the position. Then, they proceeded to put clear surgical tape ontop of the wet permanent marker ink. My kids play with markers and that ink stays on them for weeks despite daily baths and much soapy scrubbing. Maybe the radiation folks need to invest in the cheap non-washable kid markers for their patients.

February 2nd — I spent two hours at radiation today because when I first arrived, a part of the machine was broken. I spent an hour in the morning waiting. And then I got to come back in the afternoon to actually have my treatment. The waiting room at my regular timeslot was backed up because the machine broke yesterday and folks who couldn’t get treatment then were waiting this morning. After waiting an hour, a tech came out and said they needed to get their engineer into the room so would have to take a 45 minute break from treatment. Could we wait? There were already three people ahead of me at that point. When I said I would prefer to reschedule, they booked me at 1 p.m. Life, I have a small business we just started. I don’t have time for this. Cancer is very inconvenient. I made some phone calls and rearranged childcare duties so I could still make my Girl Scout cooking class that afternoon and went on with my day. Before my treatment, the techs took more x-rays of me. As I’m being zapped, I thought about how all my life I’ve avoided x-rays. When I’d see the dentist for my annual check-up and the hygienist wanted to take x-rays because it had been three years since my last set, I would ask if it were really necessary since I don’t have cavities. If the dentist thought the x-rays were prudent, I would have done it, but didn’t want random x-rays just because it had been three years. And in the last week, I’m sure I’ve been exposed to far more dangerous radiation than another person’s lifetime of dental x-rays. It just points out how scary my disease is that this treatment is important enough in prolonging my life that the benefits outweigh the risks. Any wonder I cry driving to radiation each morning?

February 1st — I still dislike radiation but maybe I don’t hate it. There are some things worse than cancer that can happen to you in this world. In fact, there are some things worse than illness that can happen. The sister of a fellow cancer patient who is undergoing radiation is a very friendly and warm older black lady. She’s always chatty and sweet while she waits for her sister to finish her treatment. She’s also very religious and blesses everyone on a daily basis. I turn away no blessings. Today she began talking about how she and her sister were raised by an abusive alcoholic mom who used to beat them. That brought the two sisters closer because they were always defending each other from their mom. She was actually telling this story to the woman who has radiation after me but I eavesdropped because it’s a small waiting room. I was surprised enough by that revelation but wasn’t prepared for what I heard next. This woman continued her story but I was only half-listening because I was reading about Angelina’s affair with one of her handsome language coaches (involving black waterproof sheets and sex toys according to the Waldorf-Astoria maid who had to clean up after them. All while Brad was in the Hamptons with the kids.) I overhead this woman saying that her seven year old daughter accidentally got one of her husband’s hunting rifles back in the early 70s and shot and killed her five year old sister. I gasped and involuntarily hugged the storyteller when I heard that part of the story. She said the girl has always had guilt about that incident and the mom will forever blame herself until she leaves this earth. She said she thinks about that incident every day and finally had to turn it all over to Jesus so she wouldn’t go crazy. Hearing that story before I went into radiation made my trials seem somehow easier to bear.