It may not surprise you when I say I approach life and its challenges with humor. That’s not to say I don’t take things seriously, proton beam therapy being a good example. Let me show you both sides.

First you had to dress the part. Your blue gown had three parts and it was an art to master. You first put your arms through the front and then it wrapped around your back and then the front again. Its design minimized “wardrobe malfunctions” so your arse wasn’t accidentally exposed. From there you went into a waiting room (this was pre pandemic,) and waited for your name to be called. The waiting room was full of people as diverse as cancer is unforgiving.

There were 4 separate “bunker” facilities each with a massive gantry that rotated 270 degrees. One beam, four rooms, four patients being treated sequentially. The machine was made by Hitachi. The beam would go from room to room, hence when the beam was available you would hear them say “we have the beam” over the speaker system. The machine would then make a whirring noise as it operated for I guess a what seemed like 3-4 minutes. When it stopped the technicians would come in and move the gantry so the beam could be repositioned. In my case the beam was aimed from below me, first the right side, then the left. Then I would wait for the beam again. In between, other patients would receive their doses.

The technicians, were mostly from the midwest, and absolutely the most beautiful and compassionate people you will ever find. They helped you lay on a sliding metal “tray” and then first lined up lasers to the two tattoos I mentioned I had on my thighs. Later in the alignment process you would be x-rayed (each time) for precision. Your job was to stay still as you received the proton beams.

I, of course, would wind them up any opportunity I had. Each treatment would start with “please tell us your full name and DOB,” sometimes I would change either the day or the month or the year just by one to throw them off, reactions were priceless. Other times when asked where I was from, (I had many answers to that question,) that provided another opportunity for frivolity. Or, I would be asked about Australia, and would tell them the most outrageous BS that I could come up with. Again reactions were priceless when they caught on.

One day as usual, they were doing the initial alignment, minor movements sliding me with the sheet I was laying on the metal tray with. They would call out positions to each other such as ant 1 and ant 2. (To this day I am not entirely sure what it meant despite them explaining to me when I asked.) After one of them said “ant 1” I asked: “do you know what term we use in Australia to signify a tiny tiny gap or minute measurement?”

After they shook their heads I responded: “A bee’s penis” “we measure in bees rather than ants” Their eyes popped out of their heads! We all cracked up. I love them all!