I had my first radiation treatment today. The radiation team had a Bob Marley CD playing in the room, and I got to listen to "Get Up, Stand Up" while uncomfortably stretched out and confined on a treatment bed.
My geeky fiance has forged a special bond with my geeky radiologist. The radiologist saw me for about five minutes before she rushed out - but when I'd changed and walked out into the waiting room, I found her talking my fiance's ear off about radiation science. I have to admit that the whole process is dead cool. Y'know, when it's not terrifying.
I've been resting my foot and recovering from a cold, but kayaking every moment I can, taking pictures of nesting shorebirds and breathing in the salty air. I saw Tim Minchin live in concert and spent a bit of time with friends. It's been beautiful lately.
I found out today that I'm not allowed to wear anything sleeveless this summer. I'll have to wear high-necked t-shirts in order to keep the sun from damaging the irradiated area when I'm outside. I'd just bought a few very nice tank tops and tank dresses, and absolutely all of my hiking stuff is sleeveless, so, well, crap. If you have advice about what I can wear that's high-necked and mildly sleeved, I'd love to hear it.
It's true that the worst part of cancer is the way it threatens my life. But sometimes I feel like cancer's a bully, stumbling around punching little parts of my life in the face. It sounds like such a petty thing, but it took me a long time to become comfortable expressing myself through clothing, and to wear things that were comfy to me. Now, like a member of a snotty high school clique, cancer's telling me that my style is totally passe.
