The day began with the discovery my internet had dissolved along with the client who had been covering it in exchange for periodic web updates on his web catalog. Apparently he decided to engage a new web person who isn't facing some hospital time. I can't say that I blame him. I not exactly in the position to commit to long term maintenance agreements right now.
The morning only got better when my ride to radiation therapy was detoured for an emergency side-trip to help deliver another friend's kids to school due to a flat tire. It all worked out when my ride pulled some amazing driving tricks and we managed to exit an expressway parking lot and sail through the side streets like greased lighting. Jennifer's driving
We arrived at radiation on time in spite of traffic, detours, and drivers ahead of us who weaved like suicidal lemmings.
Once at the radiation center I was surprised to discover another patient had taken up a position at the piano in the waiting room. He was playing something classical and mournful, and I realized that music is becoming a constant part of this process. And I get it. Music is the most transcendent experience one can find in moments of "aloneness", and that's what this process reduces all of us to.
I was called back to radiation before getting a chance to thank the gentleman for his amazing skill and bravery for performing .... so I hastily scrawled a thank you note and slipped it on the piano after taking the above photos with my phone. I then ran back to the radiation rooms where I proceeded to reflect on the music as the tri-fold beams of energy quietly and softly danced through my chest.
The session was over quickly. The radiation treatment almost seems anti-climatic. I want it to hurt. I want to feel the energy burning away at the cancer in my chest. I want to attack the cancer, damage the thing that's trying to kill me. I want to give it as good a fight as possible, and that means wanting to feel the pain as I kick back at it.
Instead all I can do is take it laying down as the radiation whispers around me.
I want to fight back. Hurt it. I want to feel it hurting. Instead I put my shirt on and slip out of the hospital quietly thinking about music.
Once home I start working on the Internet problem, and an angel in the form of another friend came to my rescue. I should be back online by tomorrow afternoon.
Today's musical mood