Well, they're right. 15 minutes door-to-door. But I kind of feel like I've been microwaved.
My right upper chest feels like warmed-over, microwaved chicken. The dang thing is radiating more warmth than usual, if you know what I mean.
To put it delicately, there's not a ton of flesh where my tumor was (think just a few inches South of the clavicle), so I'm getting nuked where there's not much "me" to nuke. Kinda stings, sort of like I got too much sun but it's not quite burned.
Not sure this bodes well for the next 32 treatments. But, again, if I can do chemo AND get hospitalized for same, I can do this.
Doesn't mean I won't kvetch, though.
Apparently I'm doing it all wrong.
After I came back from the circus, I grabbed my ever-handy blue ice pack and slapped that sucker right on the burned part. (Ever-handy, by the way, because I'm forever hurting myself-- in the gym, in the garden, doing laundry...any old way. I can relate to an old buddy who had to get ACL from stepping out of a golf cart. Seriously.) Anyway, one of my BC buddies told me the ice damages the skin even more.
Hell's bells, folks. No lotions, no deodorant, no ice?? No fair.