The Door

Every day, L disappears on the other side of The Door. I've said before how just being in the waiting room has helped me but when L is called for, The Door is still a mystery and a little bit of a worry.

Last night, L texted to say her radiotherapy machine was on the news but I missed it. Somewhat tongue in cheek, I suggested blipping it so I could see it. L wasn't sure how brave she'd feel about asking today, but brave she was.

I was invited behind The Door.

This is the beast that long term, is aiding L's recovery; hopefully eliminating any chance of the cancer reoccurring. Short term, it's causing facial burning, mouth ulcers, pain & severe lethargy. On the end of the bed is the mask she wears each time to hold her head tightly in place. It's all about precision. Beams of light line up with a tiny tattoo she had on her chest post op - which I do also have a photo of (because that's the kind of thing we do!) but am banned from blipping.

Both the machine on the wall and the bed rotate during the therapy which only actually lasts a few minutes. The bed raises and lowers too which L said can be a little disorientating but no more than that. It was a large, bright airy room and not at all as intimidating as I had expected it to be. Despite trying black and white, I decided to blip in almost full colour as mono gave a threatening feel which was just not right.

I feel much better about The Door now.