www.cancermonster.net

Shh! Don’t tell anyone . . . I am living a double life.

Today I am a solitary spinster in my tiny apartment. Not actually lonely, but very very quiet. I just came from the grocery store where I bought one bag of food. Just enough for myself. For more than a week. Maybe two weeks or more. When I got “home” I made myself a bowl of soup. (It was really good soup, don’t worry. I like soup. Let’s call it stew, a meaty, hardy stew if it will make you happy. But it was just soup.) It didn’t take long to make dinner for one and my kitchenette is still clean. Go figure. I sat down at my table and ate my soup while watching the news. The only thing missing from this picture is a few cats. A few stereo-typical cats winding their way through my legs. My only companions. A spinster.

This could be a “compartment” in any big city neighborhood. I am in a different hotel, but with pretty much the same set up -kitchenette, bathroom, queen bed and comfy chair with a matching ottoman. This one, however, has a table (instead of a bar) and a desk. whoo-hoo. I moved to keep the Monster on his toes, see. (That and the other hotel was booked by a double squadron of miniature soccer players.) This hotel is an “inny” as opposed to an “outy” like the other one. I have to go inside the lobby and down the hall to my room. So, not only do I not have a porch, I don’t even have a door to the outside world at my immediate disposal. (I didn’t even look for a river.) I never had an inny apartment ever. This is a new experience.

When I was single (and younger) I don’t think my apartments were ever this quiet. There was always the noise of the radio or my friends. The TV was louder even I think. I never lived in a quiet neighborhood either. There was one little bungalow on an island called Matlache in Southwest Florida that was pretty quiet. If it weren’t for the coconuts whhoommpping down from the palm trees every time the wind blew (It was an island - the wind blew - the palm trees were old and plentiful - and fruitful) it would have been as quiet as this. Maybe. But I don’t think so.

Maybe it just seems so quiet because I have been a mother for nineteen years now. The better part of the last ten, I had four kids winding their way through my legs instead of cats. And kids are allergic to quiet. So are husbands for that matter. There is no husband here either. Boy, it’s quiet.

Leaving home this morning was harder than last week. The kids know how long five days are now that they lived through the last five day deal. None of them made it comfortably through last night. Robert ended up on the couch. Brandi was too hot to keep her curtain covering her bunk. (The fact that once the curtain was removed, she could see directly into my bed had nothing to do with it, I am sure.) And Jaymi, well she didn’t have a good night either and she made me promise I wouldn’t write about her bad night. So I won’t. But she had one.

After the night we collectively had, my Dear Aunt in Huston forgot that I am two hours behind here in Oregon, bless her heart. “I needed to get up anyway, Dear. Don’t pay me any mind. It’s almost 7:00a. It’s OK.” And it was. I love that lady. She can call me anytime of the day or night. Maybe. haha

The kids and I got in trouble from the new boss. We were talking and hugging and giggling and not getting ready to go to daycare. Dad wasn’t pleased. He was in a hurry. He has a schedule. One week in and he has it handled. When they all hugged me for the last time and headed out the door, I just stood there and watched it close. When did I loose my role in the family? And what is my new role? Oh yea, I forgot. Sheena, Slayer of Monsters.

The ride up from the beach was a wet one. It rained the whole way. I stopped for gas halfway at a Tribal Casino gas station. I had to pump my own gas. What is so remarkable about that, you ask? It was interesting to note that the Grand Ronde Tribe thinks I am smart enough to pump my own gas and the State of Oregon doesn’t. I haven’t pumped my own gas since we moved here over five years ago. It felt good.

I walked into the Treatment Center and waved to the lady in the lobby. I wonder if she remembers that I ran out just a week ago? I crossed her desk and headed into the Radiation Treatment wing. “I’m Baa-ack!” I walked on through like I knew the secret handshake and made my way to the ball gown lounge. Grabbing up the flap lest I show my true nature, I found a chair and opened my book to read. I didn’t actually read, but I made the attempt. I was making progress. I must be getting use to this.

I don’t want to get used to this.

My lady crew was waiting for me with all the right pillows in all the right spots. They are so sweet. Today was a bolus day. It took K a bit to get the double wide material to wrap around my leg and lay over my tail just right.

“You should have been here when they were trying to custom fit this to my hiney, K. It was quite the site.”

“I heard.”

“Of course you did! H, here can tell ya. She was there every blasted minute of it.”

“We didn’t hurt you too bad I hope.” H, who has been so very gentle ever since, asked quietly.

“Let’s just say that I didn’t know you as well then. I didn’t know what the proper name was to call you, but in my mind, I was calling you several other names!”

I need to take H something tomorrow. I think I might have hurt her feelings. oopps.

When the treatment was over, I asked K a question that my Aunt had asked me this morning. “How many fields are being used? And by the way, what does that mean?”

K told me that a field is the angle of the radiation beam. In my case, they use three fields. The machine aims the beam down from the first angle. Zaps and moves to the next programed angle, zaps and then travels to yet a third angle. She said that she has used up to twelve fields before. I wanted to know if just the edges are getting zapped or if the whole thing is covered. “The three angles combine to cover the entire tumor from the edges in to the very center. ” hmmm. I learned something.

After my tanning session I saw Nurse BB the Wonderful and Dr G the Gallant. Every Monday I will have these extra visits, I am told. I was asked about my weekend, my pain, and my skin. I had to bare my . . . soul to them both for a check. I answered their questions, they answered mine and I was off.

“Bye Girls! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

“If your leaving, the fun is over.”

“Might as well go on home then.”

Wasn’t that nice of me to give them the rest of the day off?

I’m pretty tired. It has been yet another long day. A long, weird day. Radiation Day 6 is completed. Six down, nineteen to go.