No, you can’t sir!

I failed to publish this post on the day I wrote it, Memorial Day, so the order of this and Burning Woman are inverse. I am eight sessions in, of thirty-three, with the radiation therapy process, and so far so good.  Each weekday morning I am greeted by the A-Team (Amanda, Arline & Adrian) at the Texas Oncology Radiation ward, where they have me lie down on a sheet spread on the gurney which is placed atop the special mold made at the onset of this process a few weeks ago.  They move me into place by adjusting the sheet underneath me, calling out numbers to one another as they align me with the machine and markings on my body.  Once in place they leave the room and go to a separate one with monitors to watch over the targeted radiation process. I consider it my six week, daily meditation routine, so at this point I close my eyes and begin a Dr. Zhang meditation/visualization exercise, envisioning myself in a pleasant nature setting, albeit with music (always a differe...

It's like having the sun rise and set continuously, repeatedly, inside the upper left quadrant of my torso for five consecutive days, followed by two glorious days of dark eclipse.  Nightly I wake with a dryness in my throat and mouth that makes no sense considering how much water I consume throughout the day and well into the nighttime.  Slowly cooking, from the inside out: the skin red and rash, only in the quadrant, showing evidence of radiation. (Gratefully, there is no internal pain associated with the treatments.)  The end is in sight however, with only six treatments left to endure. By next week's end I will ring another bell to signify the culmination of these powerful blasts to any remaining cancer cells.   Last week I got to take a short break from daily radiation, having two sessions in one day, followed by one the next morning.  The rest of the week I was tending to a lovely new puppy in my life, Spokey, who lives just an hour or so down the roa...