Heh.  Ok.  I’m not really angry.  Actually I feel just fine.  Had my first radiation treatment today.  I got to sit in the special “Gowned patient waiting room”: James Taylor playing in the background, donuts and coffee available, assorted books for reading.  The windows look out on to the Serenity garden (which actually just makes me think of Firefly, but I’m weird that way.)  So I sat in my breezy hospital gown waiting for my turn in the machine.   I’ve been so lucky, the nurses and therapists are wonderful here too (see entry on awesome chemo nurses).  So I lie down in my Grecian pose and the machine lights up, putting crosshairs on my notaboob, just like David Banner’s head.  As I’m lying there trying to pretend that my skull is glued to the board so I don’t move, I have the Incredible Hulk theme playing in my head.  And then just to change it up, it’s the walking away theme.

I probably dated myself with that one, huh?   So back to the radiation.  Basically there were some whirrs and clicks and I was done.  I feel pretty good.  Haven’t actually been angry yet to find out if my notaboob grows bigger, stronger and green. 

Ok.  So it’s nothing like that.  But wouldn’t it be cool if it were?

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