Have you met Betty?

As our days roll by, today saw my 8th radiation therapy session.
After getting off to a very shaky start, I now rock up, semi strip, watch a wonderous light show, get a few minutes to meditate, and then go home. Oh yes, I do get dressed again, before leaving the building.

All of the above takes place in a very large room, bigger than your average school classroom. Most of the room is filled with a giant machine and if you look closely, you will see on her sleek surface, an old 'photo of a lady from the 1940's. She is Betty (Davis), and the machine is therefore called Betty. During WWII, most 'planes and tanks and boats got names and a like-minded person named this amazing creature. And amazing she is: naturally, the bed-part moves up and down, forward and backwards, side to side. Around it are panels and arms and paddles, like the arms of an octopus. They silently swing around to the command of a sophisticated logarithm and plan that I couldn't begin to imagine. The entire room has brilliant emerald green lazer lights crossing it, making the atmosphere even more like sci fi, except that it isn't 'fi' - it's very real.

I'm still trying to sort out my usual afternoon wilted state from fatigue caused by radiation therapy. Today, someone told me that the fatigue only starts after 2 weeks, which I haven't reached yet. Why did I ever read about such nasty stuff? Remember, the best advice to anyone going into cancer treatment is : keep a closed mind. The less you know, the better off you are. What you know will not help you one iota and every potential side-effect assumes draconian proportions before it is feasible. Ignorance might not be bliss, but it sure helps.