Four more to go. Today is Wednesday, September 3rd. I will complete my twentieth and final treatment on Tuesday, September 9th.

How I got here: I return to Provision on 8/11/2014, at 2:30pm for my 2:50 appointment. I find myself back in the examination room with Brittany and Shannon. We had some laughs about our last visit and I confessed my musings on my last post. Brittany pulled up this blog and saved it for later.

I checked out okay and was sent to see my new friends. The Radiators. Just a few steps away are those who as Zane said today, “…aim to please”. I am not sure what is going to happen. I know it involves another balloon….everyday…for twenty treatments. Twenty balloons generally leads to a party. I will hold out hope. I know that I have an “X” scribed on each hip in blue sharpie. My body art is sexy and slimming to my hips….luckily the sharpie will eventually fade away…or it might read, “EEEEEEEXXX” as I reach my golden years…perhaps a misshaped Roman numeral at best.

I have given a valiant effort to become friends with my nurses only to have them abandon me. I am essentially starting over. A whole new group professionally referred to as, Radiation Therapists. East Tennessee’s very own Katie Mac is tasked to retrieve me from the beautiful waiting area. I recall being led to “Autumn Room 1”. I am instructed to lose my shorts and boxers…I can keep my shirt on….(Yea!). They have better gowns here. By better I mean roomy and clean…like the gowns I wear at home. I don’t mind the back draft. It’s a liberating “dare-to-be-free” feeling. I think Katie asked about prior surgery or medical implants or piercings because of the impending x-ray…I am 100% sure I had something really funny to say and it involved my nipples….I spared Katie the humor. I am still wounded from the betrayal down the hall and I don’t know if I have my gumption back to climb that mountain….again.

For every patient that is treated for Prostate cancer, two “bets” are lost by The Radiators….I don’t know if they use a deck of cards or roshambo or draw straws…maybe seniority…..or last one to work….or just a good ol’ batting order….but a balloon is inserted to the subject’s rectum and…..wait for it….removed from his rectum…..every….single…day…of treatment or a “Zappacino”‘as I have renamed it. As you may recall the 16.9 ozs of bottled water and this modern marvel filled with 60ml of saline hold the victim’s prostate in place so the very precise proton beam can zap the cancer which is marked by the gold thingys injected prior.

I walk into the engine room of the USS Enterprise…Spock is nowhere and Scotty is at lunch…still. I am asked my birthday, I am directed to the table where I step up to lay down. I am encouraged to relax, I am encouraged to relax more…balloon in…nothing new here. Table rotates to the right, laser beams are lined up on my beautiful baby smooth hips, x-ray scans to direct the proton beam to the markers…..bell rings, the Radiators scatter to “the bridge”. A huge door spins shut behind them which makes me kinda wonder, “why are they hiding behind a super duper thick space door whilst I lie here in a gown…?”. They don’t have a prostate between them. They should be fine….The door spins open. They rush back into the room and move as if Len Goodman were there. Choreographed for efficiency and beauty….I guess..I’m staring at the ceiling. I can’t really see them. I am looking at the dials above the drop ceiling that has been opened up to mount the machines that have been designed to kill my cancer. I count the holes in the brackets…I wonder what that green wire does…I wonder if that’s dusty or dirty…they slowly rotate the table 180 degrees and repeat….

I know we are almost finished when they come back in and turn me back 90 degrees. The balloon is emptied of its contents then I the same. I sit up and quickly clean up while covering my fantastic backside. Understand, they don’t insert that balloon with a hammer…they use enough lubricant with that balloon insertion to fix every bike chain in Florida….and for that I say, “thanks”.

That entire process lasts twenty minutes…tops. I head back to Autumn Room 1 to dress and head out…I stop by the Nurses Station to say goodbye and here is what I see….Brittany has read and distributed the post #13. They are hovered around her cubicle and I can hear them giggling and snickering…ultimately sounds of approval. (See picture below)

Day 1 is in the books. There is no turning back. As I begin this chapter of this inconvenient gift I am hopeful. I will need to bring my “A” game tomorrow as I forge new friendships with the Radiators.

I would like to take second to recognize a couple of buddies who have been in this cancer thing longer than me and I would argue with more “serious” and aggressive forms of cancer than mine.

Brian Childress, Scott McConnell, Alex Reed have sent me encouraging messages, thoughtful prayers and incredible strength. Scott is finishing up a round of chemo in Nashville as I post this. He has already been through this twice and I have no reason not to believe the trifecta is in full effect. Brian Childress has told me to “smile hard”. Smile when you don’t feel like it…just smile. Alex reminded me that I’m not alone in “this” and to dig in. Susie Bailey Lonas, Janet Testerman, Katherine Marler, and too many other folks who I am not sure I should mention have beat it are beating it and will beat it. As I look around this group of six, no two have the same type of cancer.

Smile Hard!

I am posting this from my IPad and I’m not sure what this is going to look like. Fingers crossed.