February 25th — Today, my radiation doc drew around my breast scars with red markers prompting one of the radiation techs to comment that I looked like an aboriginal warrior. The doc asked if I had any requests for the pattern he was going to draw on me. When I suggested hearts since I am a Valentine, he laughed and said he couldn’t do a heart. When I asked what my choices were, he said, “rectangles.” Well, then, rectangles it is! I had four radiation techs and the doctor all moving me around on the funky rotating table with a special attachment on the radiation machine. Apparently, when I get “boosted,” I won’t have to do breath holds because the radiation uses electrons instead of whatever the usual radiation uses. It is a shallow field so won’t affect my heart or lungs. A savvy techie friend of mine said she’s going to do some research and explain it all to me. I asked if the radiation doc was sure the machine was turned on when they radiate me since everyone keeps commenting on how good my skin looks. I’m barely pink although my doctor keeps warning me that a more severe “radiation reaction” (don’t say the word burn) might be around the corner. Several of the women before and after me have raw red painful skin from the machine so I’m prepared for ill effects. It just might be my magic water and Chi Gong “sheeee” meditation exercises. It just might be that God has taken pity on my long arduous journey and spared me some radiation burn. (oops, I said it) It might just be that my luck has turned around. Strange that I don’t really feel that unlucky, given my cancer diagnosis and young age. Who was it that said God doesn’t give us more than we can bear? But He doesn’t give us less either.