Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

And did I mention that after today, there are seven treatments left?  If I didn’t, now you know.

I told a couple friends, and their reaction was, “Didn’t it go fast?” I wanted to say, “Maybe for you,” but that sounded snide. I could have said, “It’s been six weeks out of my life,” but that sounded obvious. And also snide. So I said, after pausing to really think about it, “Yes, it went quickly, all things considered.” And that’s the truth.

When I went for the first treatment, I wondered how I’d ever get through 33 of them. But I made a plan and stuck to it, week after week after week. For everyone, a plan is different; but for me, I requested my treatment for the same time every afternoon.

I’m not a morning person, so scheduling something that serious first thing meant I would not look forward to waking up. Sure, I’d have the session behind me, but I’m better doing things I really enjoy first thing each morning. Playing piano, writing, even making our bed.

So should you find yourself in my shoes, I highly recommend being proactive and asking for the time slot that works for your psyche and not the radiation department’s psyche. It made a huge difference.