Hugh about to crawl under the house
to look for the pliers he lost
the last time he crawled under the house
(he's so damned CUTE)
Today we went to Hugh's first (of about 30) daily radiation treatments at Kaiser Sunset.
We went down to the treatment waiting room which was a spacious atrium filled with nice little loveseats and chairs and plants. There was no tv playing(!). People were sitting around, waiting to be called or waiting for their darlings to be finished with the day's treatment.
We sat down near a couple, an emaciated man and his neat wife.
I ventured an opening question, and the man told me today's was his last treatment. Twenty-one years ago, he'd had the kind of cancer Hugh has (squamous cell carcinoma in the lymph node, origin unknown.) It was treated with radiation and "cured." Twenty-one years ago. According to his doctors, the tongue cancer he has now is not related to that one. I won't go into gory, scary details, but he was very matter-of-fact and sweet. Hugh chose not to listen too close. though he did pay attention when the guy told him about the mask he'll have to wear, and how it's bolted to a table so he can't move.
After the man went in for his final treatment, I had a long talk with the woman. They've been driving in every day (thru the sheets of rain we've been having) from Palos Verdes. She told me that one in 100 people in So. Cal has cancer. She also told me about a recent article about radiation in the New York Times. (I looked it up. Apparently overdosing with radiation is rampant.) Geeez. (Not that I totally trust the NYT after the lies they told about me & my attitude toward local water quality.) But I plan to make a pest of myself, querying the staff about checking and double-checking their computers, and so on. (I'm reading Atul Gawande's "The Checklist Manifesto.")
Hugh shook hands with the guy, when he came back, and they wished each other luck. Very sincerely.
He referred to them as a couple of angels.
Hugh was called and was gone a long time (for the initial setup.) It usually takes about 20 minutes.
I was sitting and reading my Kindle book on my iphone. I'm reading "Too Much Happiness," Alice Munro. The first story, "Dimensions," is so ambiguous and great. (Ambiguity pleases me more than untrustworthy certainty used to. I like to know where I (can't quite) stand.)
Then, I noticed my mood changing to outright cheeriness. There was an amazing, fresh scent in the air. I looked up as a black woman sat down near me. She said, "I like your boots." (see previous entry for photo of my rain boots).
I said, "I like your smell!"
She laughed. We then had a long talk about the scented shea butter she wears. She took my email and I took hers, while her ol' man came out from treatment. She sent my email to the shea butter guy who's from Africa and who makes his own blends.
Hugh came back and sat down as we finished. He was fine. Felt no different. Hadn't freaked out from the mask, though he had failed to say, as he'd planned to, after he donned it, "Please help me! I am Louis the Fourteenth. The other guy is an impostor!"
He said everyone was kind and helpful.
We came home. Hugh immediately went to work on the pump in the grow room. He wants to finish all the tough jobs before he starts to get worn down by the radiation.
John is supposedly coming up to stay a while again. I like having him here. He reportedly told Hugh, "Laurie can't be taking you there every single day."
I said, "What a sweetheart!"
Hugh said, "Yeah! I thought you knew that about him."
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