"How's radiation" seems to be the question of the week. To which the flippant answer is "It's three minutes of high powered toxicity attacking your DNA" but that answrs a different question and anyway I'm not one for flippancy. I don't even like dolphins.
So - radiation is surprisingly timely (they run EARLY). It's surprisingly informal (I've already given up on the changing room in favor of stripping in the equipment room) and it's unbelievably quick (I can be in and out of that place in the time it takes Rachel Ray to whip up a merengue - I know this because the TV in reception is switched to the food network
Side effects will build up as the radiation takes hold and should include irritate sunburned skin, a sore throat, lack of saliva (there go my few remaining teeth) and possible nausea.
The secondary cancers are something that tend to come much later. Well, later.
Administration is simple. Check in with mumbles the male receptionist, settle into your book, get startled by Creeping Moses - the nurse who makes no sound until she coughs "Mr Walls?" into your ear. Up onto the table, head in the mold they made of you, on with the laser guide, a little time being slid from position 'A' to position "A.0" and then everyone leaves, the giant phone receiver hums, the stars on the ceiling glow a little brighter and you're ready for the 15 minute walk back to the subway station (that takes in what we've dubbed 'the Cancer Cafe'; a coffee shop full of worried looking parents and their bald children)
And that's it. Easy, easy, so far very easy.
It'll get harder.
No comments:
Post a Comment