If you’re wondering what it takes for a patient to miss a radiation appointment, the reason has to be pretty serious. A cold? No. An invitation to meet our Mayor? No. Free tickets to “Hamilton”? Probably not.
But snow? Depending on the amount, yes. Predictions yesterday were that our area would be blanketed with another several inches on top of what we’ve already had this week. I thought nothing of it and told the radiation oncology department I’d be there for my twentieth session.
Today I started out of my driveway and promptly landed in a snowbank. I could still be there, since the white stuff and my white car were about the same height and I couldn’t even open my door. But two men with shovels got the car out.
Not taking this as a sign, I headed to the main streets, thinking they would be better. They usually are. Instead they were another missed opportunity to rethink my situation. I turned onto Nickerson, which was not plowed, and felt like I had no control of my car. Keeping it on my side of the road, especially when a truck came the opposite way, was a feat worthy of Olympic skill.
But I’m no Olympian. I’m a seventy-three-year old woman who finally conceded to Mother Nature and is skipping radiation today. Number twenty will have to wait.