Session 9 March 3
I was very pleasantly surprised today because I attended a 4:40 session and went in almost immediately. The session itself went smoothly. There was no music and it seemed to confirm my hypothesis about the role of music because I wasn’t as drowsy in spite of it being late in the day. I enjoyed some banter with the radiation therapists about the Olympic hockey. One of them, a Muslim woman from her hijab, was teasing both me and the male therapist by saying we were just lucky to win the gold. She introduced women’s hockey and said she was surprised about the criticism of the women’s team for partying on the ice. Her understanding was that it happened after the crowds were gone and she saw it as not big deal (A view I share). I was surprised and delighted to have a stereotype of mine burst by her. I think I expected her to have a more conservative perspective.

I’ve learned as I’m sure everyone does to associate the sounds of the machine with particular stages of the treatment. First there is the whirring of the electric motor which turns the big heel on the wall and moves the scanners and the irradiator around, Following that are a couple of clicks indicating that treatment is about to start. If I don’t hear the clicks pretty soon I know there is a problem, likely too much gas in my colon. When treatment starts there is a sound like a servo-motor followed by a higher pitched sound which I think are the X-rays being administered. I don’t know how this is done but my curiosity and my science background will drive me to find out. There are seven positions for the treatment ending with the big irradiator pointing straight down on my groin. When it’s done the lights come on and its time to go.

Today I took the bus and subway over to Gus’s house where I was fed and otherwise cared for and then Gus, Howard and I went down the street to play basketball. At least Howard and I were playing; Gus is prohibited until his heart beat irregularities are sorted out. This is understandably hard for him since he is a real basketball junkie. I was delighted to find both my sons there. I had expected one but not the other. Being able be at least respectable on the court with them is a joy I can’t overstate. It will end soon I’m afraid, not because of cancer but because of my failing knees. I had wondered about fatigue being a factor but it wasn’t. In fact this evening I packed it in early because my knees hurt. At 9, Matt and I headed home together on the subway and were joined by Chris, one of the terrific young men I’ve met through basketball and my sons. We all parted company at Main Station and went on to our separate homes. Chris had another 40 minutes of travelling to East Scarborough but Matt and I were nearly home.