Over the last three months my body has seen a series of catastrophic interventions: surgery, various invasive scans, a major infection and a second surgery, and then 7 weeks of cancer-killing radiation therapy.
I am now hoping these interventions are over, and that way I can focus on actually trying to build up my health and resistance once again.
Oddly, I feel very little of the elation I expected to feel upon the end of my radiation series. Instead, I feel overwhelmed: overwhelmed by the fact that now, I should “get on” with my life. I no longer have any excuses, except the delay of my own body in “getting it together again.” I am a naturally impatient person – did I mention that?
Here is a picture of the technicians who did my therapy. I think the one on the left is an MD – but I’m not really sure. I didn’t really interact with them much – mostly they are in a little booth (protected from the radiation) while I was inside the machine.
I gave them a gift – some individual-sized cakes from a bakery across the street.
The lobby of the radiation building has a multilingual sign. I noticed something today for the first time – good to notice it on my last day there. What I noticed was that the language at the end is utterly messed up. Wendy thought it was mutilated French, while I wondered if maybe it was an attempt at Catalan. I’ve decided Wendy is more likely correct, but it’s very bad French, where someone may have forgotten to clear his template of some leftover Spanish, first.
I wonder if the other languages, that I don’t know as well, are messed up too?
What I’m listening to right now.
My Bloody Valentine, “When You Sleep.”
[daily log: walking, 9 km]
