A dozen down. Four more to go. Rhonda’s having her twelfth radiation treatment as I write this. Initially, the doctor presumed my lovely wife would require 20 treatments after her breast cancer surgery, but that number was quickly reduced to 16 soon after she started. Praise God! I’m not exactly sure why the reduction, but common sense assures me ’tis better to need less radiation than more radiation. Before treatments began, the doc did say Rhonda was a good candidate because she appeared to be healthy, and she was tall and thin. That was a bit of an ego boost that the missus has reminded me of more than once since then.
I am sitting in my car while Rhonda is enduring her treatment, as has been the norm for me the past couple of weeks. I’d certainly like to be inside the building, a little closer to my brave wife, but that just isn’t an option at this time with the coronavirus changing the ways businesses are conducted – medical facilities included. The missus has her temperature taken by a masked assistant each day before she is even allowed to enter the building. I realize precautionary measures must be taken in times like these, especially at healthcare centers, but I still wish I could be nearer to my wife instead of occupying space inside my Dodge Dart. (Don’t get me wrong – my baby blue Dart is one sweet ride, but it’s just not the same as being indoors to show Rhonda all my love and support.)
My wife’s radiation treatments are going quite well. No pain. No nausea. Only a tinge of swelling last week, but that is perfectly normal sayeth the doctor. The missus has also been more emotional and teary-eyed than usual, as of late – also normal since discontinuing her birth control pills, for health’s sake. In addition, Rhonda recently became weepy when simply picking up her prescription for Tamoxifen. The drug can prevent breast cancer from recurring and is specific to her body’s chemistry. I think it was a moment of astute awareness of the journey Rhonda has been on up to this point and the journey still up ahead that led to her emotions temporarily spilling over. I must admit I get extremely uncomfortable, although I try my best not to show it, whenever my lovely wife cries.
Boy, am I one to talk about emotions and crying. I truly wish I could say that I am the MAN in our relationship, but just last week, while pulling weeds in our front yard, I couldn’t even contain myself when listening to Kenny Rogers’ “She Believes In Me” on my portable discman. Anyway, our unexpected journey seems to be coming to a close. I think the love of my life and I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. Well, actually the Light has been with us the entire time.