I’ve been reading up on radiotherapy.  Well you do, don’t you.  It seems that most recipients attend several days in a row with a view to the treatment destroying their cancer.

I get one session.  Presumably because I’m terminal.  Presumably because most of my pain is focused on one area.  And shortly after 3pm today I’ll get that treatment.

It really can’t come soon enough.  Uncomfortable night last night would be an understatement.  And then the natural thought process reaches forwards to when they will eventually give up on me.

The chemotherapy is scheduled to stop in April.  How long will it take for pain to return and worsen?  How long until … the inevitable.

I tend not to think too much in that direction.  Hopefully I’ll be so drugged up by then I won’t care.  Hopefully that flicker of hope from the Matrix Trials can be ignited.

Meanwhile I have today’s dress code to think about.  It’s cold, so two t shirts, a thermal vest and a jumper lead the way.  And for some reason when I see medics I always prefer dark underpants.  I’ve usually got no problem with the stripey ones but not if somebody’s going to see them.  Plain black today.

Then Suddenly It Really Hurts