Happy Anniversary to Us

So, this is our anniversary. 31 long years. So much has happened in 31 years that I could write a book. Perhaps I will. When I get time. We left at 8 this morning and arrived close to 10 at the hospital. Lots of construction on the highway. Went to the radiation oncology unit. Another new experience. Decided yesterday that I need to think of it as an adventure. I always said that to my kids while they were growing up when they didn't want to do something. "Oh, just think of it as an adventure!" I would quip cheerfully. Now I'm eating my words.

Unfamiliar with what to do, and not given any particular instruction other than to sit in the waiting room and wait, we did just that. Here we are again, amongst cancer patients, men and women, who have no doubt gone through chemo and not looking too well -- yet anyway. I busied myself with a magazine while I composed myself. Finally, about 10:40, a woman instructed me to put two johnny shirts on and sit down and wait again. Then, another woman -- "Come with me," leaving Doug behind to wait for me. I met with Dr. Grant briefly as she explained why she was doing radiation, risk, side effects, etc., and then I signed a consent form.

For the next 1 1/4 hours, I was put on a hard table in the 'simulator' room (simulation of radiation without the radiation), while a machine whirred and whirled around me and they drew on me with magic markers, as if I was some important art project that they had to be precise about in order to get a passing grade. I had to remain completely still. (I remember the full body scan in December where I couldn't move for 30 minutes). This time, however, I just wanted to flail about and run out of the room. But yet again, I regained my composure. The Lord reassured me that He was with me. And I thought of the 'adventure' aspect of it, and how I must keep going. I'm just so tired of tests and procedures, and being tired and so on and so on. This too shall pass.

Dr. Grant, the radiation oncologist was there the whole time and drew her marks on me as well as five other people, it seemed, who kept coming and going from the room as they took their simulated radiation pictures. The radiation machine will be similar except with the radiation added, of course. You should see my chest -- all marked up in green, blue and black. The markings even extend up onto my neck, which I didn't know until I saw myself in a mirror. Great! Now people can see my bald head, my flat chest and marker on my neck (as if my grandkids got loose with the Crayolas or something). Oh well. This too will wash off eventually. Once again, I'm faced with being careful not to get that half of my body wet, so showers will be minimal it at all for the next four weeks, I guess.

They helped me from the cold table and escorted me to the CT scan room where I had to be still once again. I'm getting quite used to being still. At noon we were done, all ready for radiation.

Doug was still waiting for me in the waiting room. He immediately noticed the blue marker all over one side of my neck. Funny, Doug. I was thinking about our wedding day -- 31 years ago today -- May 20, 1978. Doug was waiting for me to come down the aisle at the church -- his beautiful bride. Who would think what 31 years later would bring? Today, May 20, 2009, he is still waiting for me to come down the aisle -- of the cancer unit, and to him, I'm still his beautiful bride. Doesn't matter what I look like. He loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah. And I love him too, yeah, yeah, yeah, more than ever. For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health. We've had it all, and we're still together. That's called commitment, I guess.

Happy Anniversary, my love. Deb x0