Radiation - Day One

I have been trying to come up with something creative to make my thirty days of radiation more fun. Originally, I thought I would get something for each day and fill a jar with those somethings.  Or hand them to the radiation people every day.  Or have them hand me something.  Yeah, nothing really came to mind.  And then the weekend was over and it was Monday and other things in life seemed more important.

So, when we were on our way to my first real radiation appointment today (Matt came with me), I was disappointed I had not come up with something to make this more "fun".  (Let's be honest, for the last two weeks I have been turning to Matt and saying, "I don't want to do this." at random intervals.  I mean, come on, who, really, would want to do any of this?  But, with Chemo I had just been newly diagnosed and was desperate to do anything to get the cancerous sh#! out of my body and my friends came with me every time and made me laugh.  And then with the surgery, while something I so-did-not-want-to-do it was just an obvious necessity to get past - twice.  But, with the radiation, it feels superfluous and silly, and really, all I can think of is "Project X"  and that silver arm coming out of the floor and I don't want to be some monkey flying a simulated airplane just to see how long my brain will function!...  Okay, did that just get weird?  Forget that part...  Can we just make radiation fun somehow?)  So, finally I decided I would take a daily selfie in an attempt to document my feelings for the day.

Day One:  Trepidation (Fretful?  "I don't want to do this!")

As it turns out, Day One was not so bad.  If you can get past the part where my arms were back above my head and slightly raised, and Girlfriend No. 1 was taped to the table.  If you can get past the damn (sorry) chin strap that chokes me out and irritates my ear.  If you can get past the fact that they had to take an additional x-ray before the thing began.  If you can get past the part where I chickened out and didn't ask them to change the radio station (Country again).  If you can get past the hard table and the drawing on the body and the cold exposure of my self to the colder machines.  If you can get past all of that...then...yeah, this was the easy part.

The actual radiation?  Takes like 30 seconds three or four times over.  There is a quiet clicking noise while it is happening and it is very short.  Can't see it.  Can't feel it.  The majority of the time is taken up with the drawing, the taping, the positioning, the re-positioning, the checking and double-checking. My arms still fell soundly asleep.  My psyche still felt like I was trapped in a choke-hold.  And my modesty still had to go out the window.  BUT...it was much shorter and I have now met these people before.  I can see how they will become friends over the next six weeks.  Dr. Wilson is still not safe from the cursing, but at least I can see that it is now going to get easier.

And the countdown begins.  29 more to go.