The Zapp Gun
I had my first radiotherapy session this morning. The process was easy enough although, as I am getting used to, there was a lot of sitting and waiting. The sitting and waiting is not inefficiency but is itself part of the process and specifically it is what they politely call ‘preparation.’ In simple terms the radiographers like ones bladder to be full and back passage empty and the waiting is to ensure those desiderata are achieved; truly one goes placidly amidst the noise and haste.
In the waiting room, Smooth Radio is playing, Kate Garraway the presenter. It is bland fodder, enlivened by the appearance of the Pet Shop Boys who enliven everything. I suspect the choice of station is calibrated to the likely age of the patients but excludes those like me who saw the Grateful Dead and listen to progressive rock or any who were into heavy metal or punk.
The session itself was easy enough: lie down and let the machine do its thing for five minutes. It reminded me a lot of a medical bay in Star Trek and, just as I was thinking that, Elton John was quietly singing Rocket Man.
My main takeaway is to remember to take a book with me.
One down, nineteen to go.
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