Green light

Re: yesterday's post. I finally found out that the green beams of light in the radiation room are laser beams intended for positioning. The beam runs up my body and the technicians line it up with the tattoos on my chest -- like drawing a line with a ruler.

Because I hate the idea of wearing a hospital gown for 10 or 15 minutes every day and then tossing it in the hospital laundry, halfway through my treatments one of the technicians said he could put one in a bag with my name on it so that I could reuse it each day. And I chose one that kinda fits. But one of the other technicians wouldn't believe me when I asked for it -- wouldn't even look for it. I persisted and found it the next day.

This is what "interesting" has come to mean in my day! Preserving hospital wash water.

But after my treatment I walked over to the weekly farmer's market outside the Hospital for Sick Children and bought some Ontario raspberries. And took a pile of magazines to Toronto General -- I've exhausted all the waiting-room coffee tables at Princess Margaret. I'm starting to see some shelf space in my house.

My upper back is burning, burning, burning.