Summer and the Radiation Moon
Kate went along yesterday on my Lone Tree trek. She saw me get on the table. Kim and Nicky bound my feet and knees, put a pillow under my knees, and handed me the donut. Kate left and it was the cyber knife, John Prine, and me.
One guy, talking to Kim, said, “I drank a quart of water before I left home.” We exchanged glances, amused at what we have to do to get ready. We want to do well, get that bladder at 100 ml or above. It’s magical thinking to some degree. If we help as much as we can, the therapists will make sure we get the best from them. And, here’s the magical part, we’ll kill all the cancer cells together.
I’m struck by how much like a sacrifice these radiation treatments are. I get ushered into the holy of holies where resides the god of radiation. To get his favor I lie down on clean sheets, the priestesses make sure I’m in the correct ritual position. They leave the room, the encounter between god and sacrifice being a sacred act dangerous to others. I lie still and let the photon’s stream into me, hoping the god will grant me a miracle.
With 12 more fractions to go I’m at the two-thirds point. Blessedly, I have found a combination of meds that keep my stomach more or less calm and my bowels steadier. I feel better and that makes the whole experience less fraught.
Got our first meal delivered last night. Lasagna from Marilyn. Yummy. A real relief to get help. We both are grateful.
This ancientrail of disease, treatment, and healing continues.