There was no wind when I started out on my bicycle at 8 AM this morning, and the traffic lights were favourable, so I cut my commute to the cancer clinic from 30 to 25 minutes. It is a stunningly beautiful late spring morning. One of the things I enjoy about cycling, especially at this time of year, is the fragrant smells of blossoms (occasionally mingled with the harshness of roofing tar).
As promised, here is a photo of radiation bed with all the supports. My radiation is on the left side, so I raise my left arm and hand and rest them in the red support on the side. The technicians say that some find it uncomfortable, but I don't.
There is a little screen above the head rest, that looks like a light. There is a pink bar on the screen that rises and falls with my breath, and blips just a tiny bit with my heart beat while I'm holding my breath. The big beige block goes under my knees and legs. The technicians spend a lot of time moving the blanket (with me on it) to get my body in exactly the right position. They tell me I do a good job of staying still. That's another benefit of many years of yoga, along with belly breathing. Yesterday, I started coughing (for no apparent reason) after they had me all set up, so after a drink of water, they had to re-position me all over again. Then the trick is to stay as still as possible. On the first day of radiation, I had to hold still and focus on the deep inspiration breath hold while Bill Withers sang Lean on Me through the speaker system. That was maybe the first time I didn't hum, sing or move along to that song. It was hard to stay still, though I've never appreciated the words so much.
I've been in room #2 for four out of five treatments. Yesterday, when I was in room #3, I learned that not all the treatment rooms have beautiful paintings on the ceiling tiles, as in room #2. This is something I've seen in many parts of the two hospitals in Kingston, but none are as beautifully rendered as the ones in radiation room #2. When I asked today, the technician told me that it was one of the many patients who are artists who did the paintings in that room.
Sunflowers were Liz's favourite flower, so I think of her every time I am lying on the radiation bed and see the ceiling tile painting (Liz is my friend who died in February). Today, the Fraser Health Authority, where Liz worked for more than 30 years, will honour her, posthumously, with a lifetime achievement award. Among other things, the award recognizes an employee who "has moved the organization forward in a meaningful way by nurturing relationships; inspiring colleagues, clients, patients or residents; and demonstrating a high level of integrity and compassion." That was Liz, for sure. She supported and inspired so many, especially dietitians and dietetic interns, and cared so much about delivering the best patient care, based in scientific evidence. Her final and enduring act to support her professional colleagues and improve patient care is to set up a foundation at Fraser Health to give seed grants to dietitians for research. Her son, Cayden, will there today, in his new suit and shoes, to receive the award because Doug, her husband, is in Ireland on a well-deserved golf trip. Liz knew about the award; today's ceremony was postponed, because of COVID, from December. But I sure wish she were still here to receive it in person.
Liz and Doug, August 2021