I got ahead of myself again.... "Off to Sibley, I go."
Thursday night I noticed some discomfort. By four in the morning, I was on the phone with the (one of my many) on call physician. He was debating between a trip to the ER and an early am appointment. I begged for the am appointment and promised to be vigilant and call back if my symptoms worsened.
By 8:30 Friday morning, I was at Georgetown, hoping not to be admitted for a weekend of IV antibiotics. Of course, at the time, I was pretty stressed. I didn't know if this would affect the radiation start date and a weekend at Georgetown was not in the plans. (Zaira was off for the weekend, the Kowats were in town and my folks were out of town). I spent the morning zigzagging Georgetown, between buildings and doctors. Four hours, three doctors appointments, two antibiotics later, we headed home. Like I said before, great people, funky facility. No need for a second admission in two months.
After the excitement, we had a great weekend with Jim's parents. Sweets, treats, love and laughs filled the weekend.
"Here we go" was how one of my Georgetown radiation therapist started each treatment. You change into a gown and go into the room. They line you up. You chat about the weather, your day. They adjust you a bit here, a bit there. Then "here we go" and they leave the room. Treatment begins.
Tuesday, Washington had its biggest snowfall of the season and everything was shut down. (As a local, I think appropriately.). Jim and I trekked out for a 10:00 at Georgetown. We came home for lunch and had time for a snowball fight and sledding with Miles. Then, back out for my first radiation session at Sibley.
This treatment is not for the faint-hearted. Head pressed into a mask and locked into the table. It's like a Jason hockey mask. Or the one from Silence of the Lambs. Into loud machine for twenty or thirty minutes. Today, I asked what the emergency evacuation plan was. As in, in the event of a fire or emergency and I'm locked into the table, who saves me or how do I get out. The first response 'we don't leave without you' was not fully reassuring. The second, 'here is how you can get yourself out in the event of an emergency' was better.
Anyway, I've convinced myself that the machine sounds like one of the boys' electric trains racing around the track. That helps reduce my tension. And two days in, it isn't terrible. Hair and energy, TBD.
Here we go.
