Radiation, but first an update -

We (Faith and I) are back in Salt Lake and this is the best I've felt since last Wednesday, just in time for another juice break. Today I get three new prescriptions for anti nausea medicine, plus I keep all the old ones. This stuff is crazy. Typically I've been told you shouldn't mix medications. Not here. Take this and if it doesn't work, take this one thirty minutes later! Stay with what you're doing and add these three pills on top of everything else. So far no marijuana or opium, but I did get a steroid. Guess I'll have to sit out the first few NFL games this year. About Wednesday we'll find out if any of these concoctions work.

But there is jubilation in Mudville. Today was the last chemo treatment and to mark the occasion, all the nurses and even some of the patients joined in song to send me off. I told you this juice bar is a very social gathering. There were plenty of hugs and even a going away gift......a blanket from the infusion room. I was most grateful and told all the nurses I meant no disrespect, but hoped I'd never see them again.

Whereas chemo is a social event, radiations is a solo event. There's one machine, one lead lined room, and one board to strap you on. The door to the room is about five inches thick........lead.....must weigh a thousand pounds.

In my case I wear a perforated mask (I hope to have a picture of it here soon) that is snapped tightly to the board so I can't move. I tried to open my eyes once, but that was a mistake. The mask was so tight I couldn't get them closed again. To be sure I'm lined up the same way each time, they gave me a tattoo on my chest the first day, and that's the reference point. So now I have something in common with all three of my kids, but I'm still not inclined to get any body art voluntarily. That now leaves Faith pondering if there is a tattoo in her future.

My radiation is tougher than most because of the cancer location and the side affects of the treatment, but I'm assured it's no tougher than anyone else with a similar diagnosis. I'm under the gun about eight minutes. I feel nothing at the time......but it's like too many trips to the tanning bed. I'm starting to burn, inside and out. I compare it to a giant microwave oven. They seem to cook from the inside out. Well, I'm in the oven, and I get eight minutes at the defrost level everyday. My neck is getting red and starting to show some blistering, but inside........oh my! The doctor called it "a bad ass sunburn". Maybe I could be a football cheerleader......I know Raw, Raw, Raw.

Again, we are on the downhill side..........only five more to go.

And now I've got to tell you about my Angel. Faith has been beyond awesome. She makes sure I'm on the right meds at the right time, she keeps me fed (only down eight pounds as of today), takes care of the radio stations on the weekends, and still manages to clean and do all the laundry. She literally works constantly from Friday afternoon until Sunday night. I know she's beat, but she is always upbeat, full of encouragement, and never a complaint. I can't explain how wonderful this woman is........and tough. Just a word of advice. Don't mess with her, and believe me, I'm following my own advice.

Next - What I've learned from being on the other side.