I began radiation this week. I’ll be going every day for the next six weeks, except weekends and Christmas day, and I don’t care what your religion is, that’s a blessing.
It’s a heavy schedule, but after chemo, this experience feels more streamlined and somehow less intense. In fact, checking in by scanning my bar-coded pass and watching my session’s status appear on a screen before me (“On Time,” announced the screen) my mother commented that it was a little like checking in for a flight.
True, if your plane happens to be a giant electric can-opener and, once you’ve boarded, your flight lasts no more than about twenty minutes.
This is the radiation machine:
Can opener, no? Kitchen mixer maybe?