Hi-Rez

I had another CT scan today. Two of them, really, as they weren't satisfied with the first one. Being in a CT scanner reminds me of the movie Contact; the spinning ring brings the Machine to mind. These were pretty high resolution scans too; the woman running the machine told me that she'd scanned me in 2.5 millimeter slices. That's ten slices per inch; all I know is that the ring in the CT scanner was whooshing like a jet engine during the scan.

I start receiving radiation for real on the 10th. The total dose will be 45 Gray, more than normal for treating a lymphoma, but as the radiation oncologist said, "better safe than sorry." And it's not as though there are any particularly vital structures in that part of my body, except for my left hip joint; it's not as though they're going to damage my pancreas or anything.

So now somewhere in the world a computer is building a three-dimensional model of my midsection. They make the 3D model so they can precisely aim the radiation beam, but I like to think they'll wrap an interesting skin on my model so I can see how my midsection would look if I was a reptile or a fish-man. But on the other hand, that means that there is now a 3D computer model of my Naughty Bits. I have mixed feelings about that - what if all it does is make people point and laugh?

Oh, it doesn't matter. Chemo removed every scrap of my dignity already; there's nothing more to be lost. Point and laugh all you like; I'm impervious.