Halfway through radiation therapy
We are half way through radiation, bitches! Even into my third week of treatment, the oddness of the whole experience washes over me every once in a while. Take today, for instance. Only one of my familiar crew was there for my treatment. Four or five other technicians were milling around the room learning, or oogling or doing I’m not sure what. Because I’m a force with which ogling is so commonplace. HA. The lights in the radiation chamber are dim and all these frisky red lazers project from different points of the room. Marvin Gaye was crooning from the boom box in the corner. I had this sensation that we were all at some awkward pre-teen boy/girl party where everyone stands around and tries to make conversation while ignoring the obvious fact that I’m topless. Like those nightmares we have all had where you are at school, late for class and can’t get into your locker because you forgot the combination. You suddenly look down and realize you aren’t wearing a shirt and it’s cold! I know this is all clinical for everyone in the room but me, but they aren’t the one half naked.