Today was not one of those days. In true roller coaster mode, fresh from my joy of yesterday's test results, I discovered the universe has a sense of humor and loves a good smackdown to put me back in my place.
The radiation site is on the left side very close to my heart. In order to minimize any risk I need to be able to hyperinflate my lungs to increase the distance between the two. No problem...I breathe every day...a lot. I'm not a smoker, have no respiratory issues, am in relatively good shape so it would be a piece of cake. Or so I thought.
Ok, so who flunks breathing? This goober, that's who! My first radiation treatment was scheduled for this afternoon. I was very excited to get this process going and move on.
I showed up for my appointment early, followed directions for which way to put on the johnny and the robe (side comment: SOMEBODY please design a new version of these horrors with ties that make sense, please!) and headed into the room with all of the space age machinery. I was pleasantly greeted by three lovely technicians who were obviously doing their best to make me comfortable. They positioned me on the table and told me not to move. I didn't. Next they told me that they need to scan my breathing using a catscan and x-ray process. They began their instructions: Take a deep breath and hold it. More. More. Ok, breathe. Let's try again. And again. And again. And again. Something's not right. Finally, they told me they will have to consult with the doctor/physicist to come up with another plan. WTF? In other words, I failed. I felt like a complete idiot. This should have been a no-brainer. Of all of the hurdles in this process, I never saw this one coming. The technicians were very kind, assuring me that I am not the first one they have had with this issue but I still felt like the kid who has to have the training wheels put back on her bike while everyone else gets to move on to the ten-speeds. They get to move on to chapter books and I am handed a coloring book and some jumbo crayons. Sheesh, talk about failing Life 101!
The worst part was the walk of shame out to the waiting room to tell Brendan the news. He looked at me like I was speaking some foreign language. Yes, dear, I flunked BREATHING, that thing we all do without even thinking about it. To be fair, he was very supportive, as usual, but I have to think he was thinking different thoughts than the soothing ones he expressed.
Friday morning at 9:30 I will go back and they will try the new plan developed just for me, the breathing idiot. And then Monday, hopefully, the sixteen days of treatment begins. Another delay in this interminable nightmare. I know it will be insignificant in the end but right now it feels like a brick wall right in the middle of the path placed there by no one other than ME and my uncooperative lungs.
This is Restaurant Week in Maine, a chance for restaurants to showcase a special price fixed menu. We had planned to go out tonight to celebrate the start of the Radiation process. We went anyway, to a lovely restaurant called Eighteen95 in an old armory downtown. But instead of having a celebratory beer, I chose a Margarita to assuage my feelings of dissapointment and give myself a little self-pitying buzz. It was still a great meal.
And all will be right again, come Friday, I know (but I am practicing holding my breath just in case!)
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