Can I send a text message to my blog? And why would I want to dob that?

Okay, can I stop thinking about this now?

So, the "radiation" is done. The full body scan discovered that maybe I shouldn't have held that pill after all (4 additional views of my hand and hip, only to determine it was my hand that was "hot"). My throat feels kind of funny sometimes, but a glass of water or lemon drop usually fixes it right up. I declare it "cancer for creampuffs".

I know that it sounded scary, but nothing "really" happened to me. I mean, it was mostly the fear, and on that level, I guess I have experienced cancer. But the treatments and surgery were really easy for me. I am certain that other regimens are not that easy, and I know that I'm a baby. I learned a lot about my patients at work and even a few of my friends. Fear is not your pet or motivator. It's just crap.

So on to the crafts, I say! I'm working on a hat (for me, selfishly!!) and a belly dance bra. I will get pictures of the other 3 hats I've finished and the 10-10-10 scarf. But some of them are birthday presents, so it might be a little late breaking news. I hope to get pictures of the recipients wearing their gifts. I've also got plans for a some jewelry for another birthday girl.

The line between planning and worry is where again?

Well, the actual radiation pill was pretty much the most boring doctor's appointment ever. I'd been carefully avoiding dairy products, products of the sea, processed food, iodized salt, and exuberance like a good girl for 10 days, I'd had my pregnancy blood test, I brought some reading and knitting. The doctor was running late, of course, so I waited. The radiology tech that called me back was vaguely familiar from my work at that hospital (oh, the joys of living in the same town your entire life....) and seemed vaguely uncomfortable with me. The room contained a bed, a chair and a lead container.

When the doctor showed up, he initialled some things, went over the discharge instructions, and opened the container. The pill looked like your stereotypical capsule. The tech ran to get a glass of water, and didn't seem very happy about me holding the thing in my hand. I drank the water, swallowed the pill. The tech "took the measurements" (geiger counter???) and I was out the door.

Today I'm feeling a little funny in the mouth. Nothing horrid. I'm supposed to get some lemon candy, which I am on my way out the door to do. I had to continue the low-iodine diet until the end of the day yesterday, so I started today with a Pig in the Garden scramble at Food Dance. Mmm. Smoky apple bacon.

But I've been thinking about the relationship of planning and worry. Once the plan is in place, any further thought seems to lead to worry. And worry is the biggest waste of time. I had a list of questions I wanted to ask the doctor, and I started to ask them Wednesday when I was there getting an injection. The medical assistant kind of snapped, "What's the big deal? It's two injections and a pill." At the time, I was kind of angry. But she was right. It was two injections and a pill.