I'm a Sim!

Y'know how it's kind of odd to see a group of naked mannequins standing around or leaning against a wall together? I saw some last week in a men's clothing shop and I cracked up and averted my eyes. They weren't wearing scarves or pants or boxers or fig leaves. Nothing. Nada. Zip. There's just something about people-sized and -shaped beings in various stages of undress that seems weird. 

It's just as funny as seeing a rack of rectangles with imprints of bodies in them hanging by a hook from a corner of the mold and realizing that each one of those imprints represents a real, live person somewhere. It makes me think of Han Solo when he's encased in the (hold on, let me go Google it because I thought it a minute ago but now it's gone...) sorry, frozen in carbonite. The noun guy in my brain held up a sign that said "kryptonite" and I knew that wasn't right. Now he's sniggering. 

Anyway, instead of picturing Han facing out and screaming his silent scream, envision what the Han-shaped hole he'd leave behind if you could crack the carbonite in half like an egg carton and let him step out. That bottom half is exactly what would be hanging on from the rack in the radiation room.

For my simulation, I went into the dressing room and was told to have the hospital gown open in the back. I was to leave everything on from the waist down, lock up my stuff, and have a seat until they could finish with their current patient and then they'd come get me. I close the door and lock it, face the lockers, find three pairs of scrub pants all in a pile before finding the pile of gowns, look up to see the laminated directions for putting the gown on like a robe so that it ties in front. 

Hmmm. Didn't they say to have it open in the back? I'm having images taken of my chest. Surely they need to have it open in the front, like the printed directions say. Otherwise they wouldn't have made up a sign to post to the wall. Right?

Wrong. The tech giggles at me and chirps, "everyone thinks that. We'll slide your arms out of it and do what we need to do, but for this particular test it does need to open in the back. I know it doesn't make any sense."

Okay, so I get it on backwards which is actually correctly and wait my turn. 

I eventually make it into the actual room where I'm greeted by Baymax. Not sure who I mean? Click here but put your drink down first. Again, I had nothing to do with the video or the actual movie in any way. Thank you, YouTube. 

Not really. But that was my first impression. The radiation machine does have an actual name- TrueBeam 1655, which sounds so much cooler if you round up: I have a date with the TrueBeam 2000...

Anyway, it's rounded like Baymax crossed with a shower head or a desk lamp, that kind of graceful arch, and has arms which also rotate around to do their imaging thing. I laid down on the table in my backwards gown with the tag tickling my throat, the techs shove a support under my knees, and then rubber banded my feet together. I'm not kidding! They ask what kind of music I'd like to listen to, but keep in mind, there's to be no dancing or wiggling around. Be still. 

Which is also interesting as Psalm 46:10, which has been one of my very favorites already, is the verse our church is memorizing together during the November series. "Be still and know that I am God." And God, he sure has a sense of humor.

I'm going to be being still every day at 2 PM. So still that my feet will be rubber banded to keep them from dancing. 

It is cold in this room. Apparently Baymax is a little touchy and only operates best in sub zero conditions. Just kidding. But my arms and top of my chest are out of my gown and in the cold air. The thoughtful techs cover me up as far as they can with a blanket from the warmer and I be still. 

So from the waist up I'm on this crinkly inflatable pad? packet? something? (Here's where I hear Pippin: "...mission. Quest. Thing.")  The techs start to inflate it and the doc is squishing it around my arms which are up over my head and clutching a bar that reminds me of what Wil E Coyote plunges down to blast his TNT. I have X's drawn on me in Sharpie to line up with the lasers. I have assorted stickers, some with wires in them, stuck on me and I'm reminded of Liam when he was very small. He'd stuck an entire page of smiley face stickers, the tiny ones that are like 60 to a sheet, all over his face and body and clothes and declared himself "stick-o-powo-boy" (sticker power boy). Once it looks like I'm all set with stickers and wires and squishy stuff all lined up and puffed up just right, everyone exits the room, and Baymax does his imaging thing, rotating his arms around and taking pictures from all angles, sending its findings to the computers on the other side of the wall. 

I went in again a few days later to make sure my mold? casting? inflation? fit just right and to get new, more precise X's drawn on. Later this week they will be turned into tattooed dots for precision. The tech grinned at me and said, "you can tell everyone how tough you are- that you got THREE tattoos in one day once! You don't have to tell them they're all tiny dots." I don't know that tough is a word I've ever used to describe myself...

Baymax once again did his thing, including the arm that looks like a solid metal square positioned right over my face and head. I murmured something about "now I know how a panini must feel" and the techs laughed. I'd told them how the machine reminded me of Baymax and they'd laughed at that, too, and said it was the first time they'd heard anyone call it that. Maybe they're used to dealing with patients who have a filter between their brains and their mouths. I tend to think out loud, much to the merriment of those around me. 

Eventually I'm un-banded and helped into a sitting position. I smile at my shape in the crinkly Stuff and giggle about being hung up on the rack. I'm sure some of you are quipping about being on the rack. Go ahead, enjoy yourself! The whole thing is funny! 

I've been instructed to shower in lukewarm water every day, to stay out of hot tubs, to slather on lotion three times a day, and that I'll also get time with the doctor every Tuesday either before or after my turn in Baymax. 

I was telling the girls at church that I'm excited to start this. They kind of looked at me weird like, "uh, Val, you're headed into radiation. Generally, that's not a good thing." But I'm looking at it as another tool in my arsenal. Radiation is very localized and specific. I fortunately claim no knowledge of war, and yes, I know how blessed I am to be able to say that, but I'm envisioning some smart bomb with precision targeting. The dose is small, which is why I'll go daily, Monday through Friday. The way it works is that the radiation is administered again and again and again. Healthy cells can repair themselves. Cancer cells can not. They only know how to multiply. Therefore, it is my understanding that the cancer cells will be damaged unto death whereas the healthy ones will be able to keep up with repairs. It's a win-win situation. Radiation and surgery help with local cancer cells, chemo took care of any systemic ones that may have migrated away from their original location. I'll continue to be on meds to keep shutting off estrogen receptors so nothing can attach and cause mischief. The whole shebang is amazing! 

So if you're bored around two o'clock any day between now and Christmas, you are welcome to pray against any burns from radiation or other skin issues. Everyone is different. Going into this whole thing I wouldn't have said I had a lot of skin issues. Now it's a different story. I'm not sure if it's the chemo or the hormone meds or my immune system taking a beating but my skin has had some freakout sessions. I am still bruised from the IV I got in May. In May. It is November! I still have brownish purple bug bite markings from this summer. Two weeks ago I was seriously considering getting a tube of Clearasil because my face just would not stop breaking out already. I complained a bit to Dada, "geez, it's bad enough I have cancer, but can't I at least have nice skin? Is that so much to ask?" We made faces at each other in the mirror and he laughed with me. It's the little things.

Speaking of little things, a resounding yes, my hair is coming back. I look like Linus, and if Halloween wasn't cold in Ohio I'd have just tossed a blue blanket over my shoulder and sucked my thumb while we strolled around with the boys for Trick or Treat. It's still too short to tell if it's going to curl or not, but it seems to be coming in fuzzy and dark. 

I do have Halloween pictures, but they're on Dada's phone because mine was acting up again, so I'll try to remember to get those up. Right now, though, I need to drop off some bills and our absentee ballots and be back in time for my date with Baymax/TrueBeam 2000, haha! Gotta go live life, in other words. Happy Monday, and don't forget to vote tomorrow!