Nineteen

Nineteen radiation sessions down, eleven to go. I am fine. Much less impact than before at this stage - don't really know why. Maybe I'm getting used to it. I should be, since if you count the last go-round it's a total of 49 so far.

I also am getting used to it in the commuter/schedule/routine sense of things. I pull off the parkway at the last possible exit, slide into a non-obvious turning lane, roll up into the parking garage, punch in for a ticket, blast ahead of the other guys who are still trying to dope out the machine, go up a couple of ramps and usually am into the same space, a little off the track, you kind of have to know about it. Then walk into the hospital, plugging in the Ipod so I can listen to Fresh Air. Down to the lower level, click in with my bar code card, validate parking, then go back for zillions of electron volts. Ho hum. Another day at the lab.

Maybe that's it. The orderliness. Anyway, an end in sight, and better along the way than expected.