Firstly (absolutely honestly, truly) they
put a CD on while I was having the treatment and the first song was Lady Gaga.
Radio. Gaga. Genius.
So, two weeks ago I went in to have my
radiotherapy planning – they pop you in a scanner and mark you up with 4 tiny
(so tiny I thought they’d forgotten to do one) tattoos that they then use
during the radiotherapy to line you up to the exact millimeter to the scanning
machine.
And today was the first session proper. I
got all weirdly emotional heading into the hospital. I’ve been in and out like
a fiddlers elbow for the past 6 months without a care in the world (well, you
know…), but I did feel like I was going to burst into tears at one point (that
said, it could’ve been thanks to walking along Euston Road in the pouring rain).
It hit me out of nowhere to be honest – I wasn’t expecting to get upset at all,
but after giving myself a quick talking to I was right as a rainy London
afternoon again. I suppose I’ve had 2 weeks without any sort of treatments or
appointments, so I’ve had a taste of getting back to normal and then I’m right
back in again. Ah well, there’s not a chance I’m repeating sitting in a
doctor’s waiting room sniffling away and scaring small children though –
especially when everyone else is there for exactly the same reason. I’d look
like a right idiot.
Luckily, I get disproportionately excited
about new machines and stuff, and this one was ACE. Like actually being in
James Bond or Alien or some 80s film about what the future would be like – I
lie on a bed in the middle of the room (I don’t even get the ubiquitous blue
gowns for this though – just a square of blue paper to attempt to cover my one
remaining bit of modesty) and two radiotherapy nurses shuffle me about to line
my teeny tiny tats up to the millimetre with lasers (actual lasers) coming out
of the walls and ceiling (see, the future…). Then they leg it out the room and
leave me lying there being zapped and trying to concentrate on not
concentrating on breathing. Which is IMPOSSIBLE.
So one down and 14 to go. Just in time for
the Queen’s Jubilee. Maybe Liz and I can have a joint party.
