Readin’, Waitin’ & Radiation

Location: Saint John, a.k.a., Europe…..

Subject: Readin' magazines in the waiting room

Subject: Waitin' for 1 ½ hours in the waiting room, due to malfunction of the keyboard of the radiation machine. My appointment was for 10:30 a.m., and at noon, they finally called my name

Subject: Radiation – a new subject, one that I don't think I particularly like. Lie on the hard surface with head in donut hole, arm in stirrup. Stay as completely still as you can. "You have three fields to radiate." Techs adjust machine to target one of the fields, and they escape from room and to a computer screen to tell computer to 'zap' her.' "We'll be back in to see you shortly." OK, all alone again with the sound of the machine – will it ever stop? An incessant loud whirring – "I'm being radiated!" I try to think positively – this is part of my healing, it's good, it's good, "Jesus loves me, this I know…" I'm alone again in a room, Doug is outside waiting for me; I feel like I'm an actor in The Other Side of the Mountain (one of Doug's favorite movies, now I know why – he's the heroic guy who helps his sick wife hold on to her life). Finally, it's over and I go out the radiation cave in my Johnny shirt, peer out around the corner and wave at Doug who has been waiting patiently to see his bride emerge from the chamber. My life is a drama – I'm such a drama queen. I need to get hold of myself; it wasn't that bad, I tell myself. "Let's get some air" – I need to get outside into the real world again – with rocks and trees and plants and things.

We went to Rockwood Park to book a site for our RV in two weeks. Then to Wendy's to meet Wendy from Apohaqui, a survivor who has helped me through this past six months. We shared war stories and God stories. Thanks, Wendy, for being there for me.

Then to Cheryl 's Oasis Hotel, for tea and pillows in a chair. Then a sleep – me in the chair and Doug on the floor, while Cheryl prepared a feast for supper. Fiesta Chicken, Jasmine rice, corn. And for dessert, a thing she hid from me, knowing it's my favorite dessert . It's what I call Panache, it's real name being Pavlova, a meringue based dessert with strawberries and chocolate and of course, real whipped cream. Another name could be Pavlov, because your mouth waters when you merely see the dessert. Delicioso, C., and it was all homemade, and not take out. Great job. (I feel like I am very punny tonight).

Doug and I sat together on the couch before he left for Fredericton. I mused that I've never been without him one night this whole process. I kissed him good-bye (good thing we weren't standing on a wharf), feeling a bit sad. He told me not to cry that he was leaving, and of course, I cried. I had to have another hug. "I'm only 1 ½ hours away," he said. "I'll call you when I get home." "OK, I'm OK," as I regained composure. He's been my rock and I can't imagine not having him by my side. I cried a bit more as I told C. the events of the day. Natalie called and I talked with her for awhile. She's doing well and Aiden is feeling much better. Called Brenda in Shelburne to see if Mom and Dad made it there today in one piece. They did, after arguing with their vehicle's GPS (TomTom) several times, and Dad driving way over the speed limit on the Halifax Expressway. Dad said the woman on the GPS kept talking to him all the time telling him to slow down. Mom said she thinks she just may live in Shelburne now, rather than experience the drive home. Dad says that he thinks he'll stay tomorrow and drive home tomorrow night, and perhaps the speed limit will be up to 240 km/hr by then. My father is funny. Sometimes my mother doesn't think so. A bit of humour is good. Have fun with our parents, Brenda – don't we just love them to pieces?

Well, it's time to get the muffins out of the oven, Cheryl and go to the Superstore for bread, pick Katie up at youth group, come home and plug in the footbath and watch Hotel for Dogs. Then this little puppy is going to go to her beautifully furnished room here at The Oasis and have a long cat nap.