Radioactive

Three days have elapsed now of radiotherapy and overall I must admit to you that it is, so far, a complete anticlimax. I don't know quite what I expected but had been warned that the side effects would include possible sunburn and tiredness... So far, not a twinge.

So for all you radioactive virgins out there what is it like? Well, I walk in to the hospital and have been allocated my own gown for the next six weeks. Having changed, I move to a room where I lie down on an extremely hard bed and raise my arms up in stirrup like holders above my head. My face is turned to the right so as not to allow my brain, or throat any contact with the beams and the technicians then proceed to line me up correctly to ensure that the beam only skims along the top of my chest and doesn't touch my lungs... I haven't asked the 'what if' question but I presume it can't be worse than cancer...

The radioactive machine itself is like a huge porthole and it whirrs around me into three different positions. The first is just to my right where it goes across my chest; the second from the left lowered angle, and the third is right above my collar bone. As my cancer had advanced into the lymph glands in my armpit, the radiotherapy zaps the lymph glands which are slightly higher up the chain just in case the cells had permeated further...

And so my days have become a monotony of treatments, of walking to and from the hospital and regularly checking my watch to ensure I don't miss the appointments. It is strange though because I do feel that I am moving on... I am again in the cancer limbo but it isn't as dark as it was during chemo. I wonder how much of that is because I am, no longer, with my tumour. It does not shadow my life with its looming gloom but has become a remote island in my past. One where I disembarked for a short while and got lost, but am now back on my ship steaming past.

And as the sun streams into springtime London, as the hair sprouts from my head, I reflect on how very lucky I have been so far...

Minerva