megram - Index

megram - 55Ottawa - Index

hour in travelling time) but it might mean that I must wait a little longer
before the treatment starts.A good trade-off as far as I am concerned.
I will have to go back to the General for planning and education sessions
— this is when I make the formal request for treatment at the Civic.
He explains that the plan for radiation he draws up will minimize any damage
to my lung. (Radiation straight down would destroy maximum tissue.
Carefully angled and directed radiation keeps the damage as low as possible.)
I will in any case lose about five per cent of my right lung. He assures
me that I “will hardly notice it.”This worries me a little, but so much of the
news has been good today that I move past this section of the side-effect
issue pretty quickly.
November 30, 2007
The cancer centre calls to arrange my treatment planning and education
sessions and the caller is very obliging about arranging convenient
times in December.
December 12, 2007
Normal hospital problems are an adjunct to the planning session.
Parking costs a mint and appointments are running close to an hour behind
the scheduled times.
When I am called, the technician explains that I am to have a CT scan
and to be tattooed — no multi-coloured patterns, just five pinhead-sized
signposts to mark the boundaries of the area to be radiated.
Those pinpricks hurt. I will never understand why anyone would
choose the massive pain that must be part of covering the body with tattoos.An
odd sacrifice for a generally unattractive result.
Anyway, my pinpricks are not too noticeable. In any case, age and
assorted scars from various operations as well as the mini-tattoos are good
reasons for elegant, decorous clothing. My bikini days are long past.
December 18, 2007
The education session turns out to be a waste of time as far as I am concerned.
The speaker merely reads the information projected onto the
screen and the handout contains all the same information — copies of the
slides that have just been screened.
I would have been fairly upset if I had crossed town on this snowy day
for this non-event alone. Luckily, I had arranged to meet former work colleagues
before and a friend afterwards.
One odd sensation as I look around the room at the session. I see several
people with a grey caste over their faces and a droop to their shoulders. I
wonder why I am here with all these ill-looking people. I feel that I don’t
belong. I leave as quickly as I can.
December 19 to 25, 2007
Several people ask me how I am, sounding very concerned. I answer,
“I’m fine,” some puzzlement in my voice. I forget that there is anything
wrong with me. My cousin tells me this is a healthy attitude.
I may not feel this good once the radiation starts in January, but right
now I feel fine.Anyway, I’m too busy to be sick.The kids will be home for
Christmas and I have several writing projects to finish.
Iris Winston writes and lives in Almonte, Ontario.
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