As The End Approaches, Resolve Fades

I just want to get this shit over with, for Christ sake. 

Monday, June 7, is the final radiation session. Four more to go including today.

Humans are strange beasts. At least I am.

You would think that "almost over" would fuel positive thoughts. Instead, the last two weeks have been driving me nuts. I am so close to the end, have put up with this whole routine since the beginning of April, and my patience is thin.

Tired of the routine, which never became routine. Whatever I'm doing, working or enjoying a day off - at around 3:45 I step into an alternate reality. I settle into the waiting area - which is usually devoid of humans - for what is typically a five or ten minute wait. They are very good and very punctual.

Although there are four words that strike terror into my heart - "we are running behind." This has happened a couple of times to me. The terror comes from the fact that I have to guzzle 16 ounces of water shortly before radiation rain. This fills the bladder and gives the radiation machine a better shot at the prostate.

I am 67 years old. When I drink 16 ounces of water I am merely a conduit - it doesn't hang around long. I have had a couple of uncomfortable moments but no catastrophes.

Anyway I settle into the waiting area and pretend to be unconcerned. But I am sitting in the waiting area of the Radiation Oncology unit - it is unnatural and assaults my brain with a compromised reality. It is freaky. It is not fun.

Besides which, as I turn into the winding driveway of the hospital and bend left towards the top of the incline, I come face to face with this sign: "Payson Center for Cancer Care." There are other places I would rather be.

There is no way to accept this as routine. It is a pain in my ass and a pain in my reality.

I will gut out The Final Four, and on Tuesday, June 8 - I will have my life back.

To a certain extent.

Still gotta deal with hormone therapy into 2023. No small deal.

On March 16 I boldly announed I had lost 10 pounds. I am still there. Still fucking there. My intention was to shortly brag about having lost 15 pounds. Instead I have been up a couple, down a couple - just marking time. It has been a royal pain in the ass. A pain in the ass I will be dealing with into 2023.

But I kicked everything up a notch over the last 6 days. I am pushing hard and harder. I will get what I want.

That is long term. Short term is June 7. The final zapping.

I will float out of that building on that day and drift back down to what, for now, passes as normal life for me.