Today I took the girls out of school so they could accompany me to radiation. Last week they asked if they could go with me one day to radiation, so I asked my radiation oncologist, Dr. Dad, if it was allowed, and he thought it was a good idea to take them on this field trip. Dr. Dad even came to the waiting room this morning to introduce himself and say hello to the girls. Dr. Dad is the perfect nickname for him.
When we arrived, I let Molly check me in by scanning my card. We had to sit in the waiting room an unusually long time. They were running behind by about 20 minutes, which is a first since I began treatment. The girls didn't mind waiting because it meant they were missing more school, and they got to watch tv - which is something they are not allowed to do during the school week. I know, I know...I am a mean, strict mom.
When we entered the radiation treatment room, Riley said that it just looked like a big x-ray machine. I pointed out the 12 inch thick door. They watched as the techs marked me with a felt-tip pen, and then lined the table and me up with green and red laser lights emanating from several places in the walls and ceiling. For some reason, the girls were not allowed to stay in the control room and watch on the monitor as I was getting zapped. I will ask Dr. Dad on Monday (I see him every Monday) why they are not allowed in the control room. Riley thought the reason that had to leave was just in case radiation leaked into the room. I think it's an insurance issue. I'll find out on Monday if either one of us was correct.
I am on week two of seven weeks of radiation. The skin under my left arm is beginning to feel a little sensitive, like a very mild burn. I wore a cotton sweater with a cami , and the thickness and texture of the sweater felt abrasive against my skin. I discovered that the most comfortable top to wear against my sensitive skin in one of Chubba's cotton t-shirts that has been washed 500 times. This look is okay for hanging around the house, but not so great in public...I would be a poster child for What Not to Wear.
I am not sure if my hair is beginning to grow. A few people that have seen me without a head covering said that it look likes it is beginning to grow, but I think they are just seeing the leftover stubble that never escaped. I use my legs as a hair-growing barometer, which I have not needed to shave in over two months, and nothing is growing yet. Not needing to shave my legs is a cancer bonus. My eyebrows and eyelashes thinned a bit, but I never lost them. The other day I was going to pluck a couple of stray eyebrows hairs, but I was afraid that if I plucked one hair, the rest would fall out - kind of like pulling a loose thread and then the entire seam unravels.
Whacky thought for the day...
Sweden must make the best military tanks.
Today Molly and I were on our way to an away high school soccer game, when the traffic on highway 128 stopped, somewhat abruptly. I was afraid that we were going to get hit from behind so I told Molly to "hold on." The guy behind was going to stop okay, but the lady behind him barrelled hard into him, and he smashed into me. Fortunately, no one was hurt. Molly was very scared and shaking. The other two cars, a Jeep Cherokee and Dodge Caravan, had to be towed away. The front bumper of the Jeep - the part that hit me - pushed up and into the engine, destroying the right headlight and socket, and doing something to the radiator causing fluid to leak all over the ground. The back of the Jeep was crushed all the way into the left rear wheel well. The front hood of the Dodge buckled, partially covering the windshield, and exposing a damaged engine leaking fluid. It was in very bad shape, and is probably totaled. I am surprised that the Dodge's airbags didn't deploy.
My Volvo wagon has two little scratches on the middle of the rear bumper! We didn't even get pushed forward upon impact!
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Thank goodness...you probably have a band of angels surrounding you...of course, they're Swedish!
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