When I'm finished in the waiting room, the technicians come and get me for my radiation treatment. I recorded every detail of what it was like to receive treatment. No one explained the details of what it would be like to go through treatment. It isn't something people talk about. Few people know a lot about radiation treatment. Here is my experience with it:
I follow the technician through the 12-inch thick door, the first sign that this treatment is dangerous. This door keeps the radiation in the room. The room is large, too large for the big machine, another sign of the danger. The radiation needs plenty of space to disperse so it won’t affect the people coming in and out. Now, begins the worst part. I am getting used to it after 15 days, but not really. I get to take off my shirt that already revealed too much. Yep, take it off. The machine, although very powerful can’t get through my shirt. I take it off and use it to cover the right breast, the one that doesn’t need the radiation. It is much more modest to only have one breast hanging out for all to see than two. I know this isn’t true, but I do it anyway, the technician will even arrange the shirt over my right breast nicely so I am more fully covered. My right breast is fully covered, my left breast is sitting all by itself completely revealed for all to see. I sit on the table. It’s probably supposed to be a bed, but it’s hard and flat like a table. I lay down and place my head in the plastic head thing that has been adjusted just for me. I raise up my knees so they can put a blue cushion, pillow thing under them. Its supposed to make me more comfortable. They strap a blue rubber loop around my feet so I won’t cross them. If I cross my feet, I will change position and that would be very bad because then the radiation will hit parts it is not supposed to hit. I raise my arms, revealing my hairy armpits I’m not allowed to shave, I can shave the right side, but that would be weird, and grasp the handlebars also set just for me. The technicians line up my tattoos with the lasers all around the room. They set the table to the correct levels calling out numbers and watching the lighted ruler that displays on my chest. I visit with the technicians a little, it makes the process and my lonely boob feel a little less horrible.
They say “here we go” and exit the room, being sure to fully close the mammoth door and leave me alone with the machine. The machine moves into place. There is a lit scene of mountains and streams covered with trees and a little snow on the wall, but it’s not exactly in my line of vision and I can’t find anything interesting or curious in the picture. Instead I look at the white tiles on the ceiling. The machine hovers over my right side angled at the right side of my left breast. It makes static noises as the metal tube-looking things change position. Then it makes a high pitched buzz as it zaps me with an invisible dose of radiation. It gets static-y again then makes a lower pitched buzz as it zaps me with a different invisible dose of radiation. I have counted the seconds. The first dose takes 8 seconds. The second dose takes 10 seconds. The machine sings static again and shifts to the left side of my body. It moves slightly below the table where I can’t see the metal tubes anymore. The technician comes in and moves the table so I am in the correct position. She leaves me alone and I wait for the static again. The machine does its zapping again, this time zapping the left side of my left breast. I count 10 seconds for the high and 8 seconds for the low. The machine moves right over the center of my body. I know that I am finished, but I stay in my awkward position waiting until the technician graciously says “you can put your arms down.” I try to nonchalantly cover up with the pink shirt. I wait for the table to lower. I was 5 feet up in the air, as much as I would love to jump off the table, I have to wait. I lie there as she removes the pillow from under my knees and the rubber loop from my feet. Once the table is lowered, I sit up, put my feet on the floor and dress in my pretty pink shirt. Once again there is a little small talk followed by “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walk out of the bomb proof room into the small waiting room. No one is there because I am the last patient for the day. I unlock my clothes, choose another dressing room and put myself back together. The trip out is much like the trip in, I look for clues that I am heading in the right direction through the maze of doors and scenic mountain pictures. Once I know I am heading the right way, I walk a little faster, slip out the doors and begin going home. I will do this again tomorrow and the next day. I have 18 days left. The last day will have only one difference from all the others. No one will say “I will see you tomorrow.”
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