Your humble correspondent reported to the Radiology Department at Johns Hopkins this morning at 7:20AM for the first of 25 radiation treatments. This involves nuding up from the waist down, putting on a gown, and laying on a table surrounded by big white boxes suspended on a round gimbal. I try to keep from flashing my junk while two helpful techs come along and align the lasers with three marks permanently tattooed on my waist (yes, I made it all the way to 46 without a tattoo and what do I get? three tiny dots–thanks, cancer) and then I hold my arms up above my head and they all scurry out of the room to avoid the radiation while the gimbal slowly spins the boxes around my stomach. This process lasts about 20 minutes. Then I get up, get dressed, and go to work.
I didn’t feel anything while they were doing it; I was half-expecting heat, but felt nothing. My stomach is slightly burbly this afternoon but I don’t know if that’s due to nerves, food, or nuclear medicine. We have an appointment with the chemo guy tomorrow at 2 to find out what to expect there; I’m hoping it doesn’t involve losing all my hair and projectile vomiting.