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Sarah sitting on the steps outside the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge

Treatment started.

Visible to anyone in the world

Radiotherapy day 1.  Well, not an awful lot to report, to be honest.  Got seen by a radiographer to check I was who they were expecting, that it was my signature on the consent form, and that sort of thing.  Got warned that in the next six weeks I would get well and truly sick of giving my date of birth and address multiple times per day!  Waited around for a bit longer and got taken in to meet "Linear Accelerator 4".  Looks just like a slightly bigger CT machine (big open polo, not MRI-like tight tube) but in a reasonably darkened room.

Made myself comfy on the table and had my mask put on.  It had snugged up slightly from when it was made - that's what it does, continues cooling and shrinks slightly after it's made - but that just makes it do its job properly in holding me in exactly the right place.  On top of my eyes (well, on top of the mask, over my eyes) a couple of dosimeters were placed to monitor how much radiation is getting to my eyes.  We're not too fussed by my right eye - while they're going to do their best not to damage it, it's already got the movement and focussing problems from the tumour (which can't be fixed), it's my moderately useless eye anyway, and it's very close to the treatment area, i.e. it is at more risk than the left eye.  All due care is being taken to ensure as little damage as possible to my left eye.

The radiographers left the room and the CT scan part was done.  Evidently I was in the right position, because a couple of minutes later, treatment started.  At first it was not unlike a CT scan, just the whirring of the machine going round, but then the light show started!  Lots of blue-white flashing lights, which led me to wonder about what happens to people with photosensitive epilepsy in these situations.  The light show travelled from right to left repeatedly and gradually from top to bottom, so obviously that was as the polo was spiralling around me - completely explicable but quite fun to watch.  I asked afterwards whether that was the X-ray photons hitting the retina or directly triggering the optic nerve, but they're not really sure (or maybe they were completely thrown by being asked!)

Oooooh, I've just had a thought - it seems to match the descriptions of what astronauts see when they are in space!

As warned, there was a funny smell and/or taste as well - I couldn't work out which it was, it's kind of at the back of the nose, and a bit like a metallic ozone smell/taste.  Not actually real, in the sense of something getting up my nose, but again down to the nerves being triggered by the radiation.

And that was that - sit up, have a little chat, eventually ask someone where they put my glasses at which point they retrieve them for me and I can see well enough to stand up and leave.  "See you tomorrow” and off I go.  Found my husband in the waiting room, where he had a laugh at the mesh-mask impressions left on my face (I'll get a photo so you can laugh too).

I would say a little bit of nausea and a little tiny short-lasting (not even half an hour) headache followed.  But, given that I'd gone 17 hours without eating for the morning's blood testing, I wouldn't be at all surprised if those were caused by that rather than the radiation.  Tuesday morning I was fine before breakfast but felt a bit wobbly afterwards...a little while later, I tested the ginger biscuit theory to find that they do indeed make me feel better!  Yay!

There we are: one down, twenty-nine to go.  Don't expect a daily report - as ever, no news is good news.  I'll post when there's anything interesting (good or bad) to witter about.
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Reading this is fascinating. We never hear about what happens from the one who knows. Keep posting. I want to know how you get on. Thinking of you at this difficult time.