Trilogy Treatments

The Trilogy Radiation machine is huge, with a metal slab for the patient. (me). My pants are lowered to my knees and a sheet is draped over the exposed parts.

It revolves around me as I lie on the doggie pee-pad-covered metal slab, my legs fitted into a mold so that I always stay in the same position. My arms are stiff as I hold an oval foam ring in my hands. Even if I weren't instructed to not move, terror would probably keep me in my place. I've had 8 treatments - 22 more to go. The last 3 will be extra special. A "tubular device" will be inserted into my birth canal and the radiation will be administered directly from it. The nuclear dildo. Fire in the hole! Lucky me. The hysterectomy of 2018 was supposed to get rid of all traces of endometrial tissue. Either the carelessness of the surgeon (who also left an ovary to float around inside my innards) or the staunchness of the cancer is to blame.

So far, I've had intestinal distress and a burning sensation in the radiated areas. Because of the tumor's location, the beams have to shoot through my intestines and bladder. This makes me angry. An unnecessary complication. I want targeted treatments so that the rest of my body isn't damaged.

Strange that while this is happening to me, the entire world is on lock-down. I still see people outside of my window headed to the dollar store, but there are far fewer cars and nobody is buying cigarettes from the smoke shop across the street. Nice of the Universe to make the rest of the world slow down while I am incapacitated.