Another week gone by and there's light at the end of the tunnel.

Tuesday was day 25.  Yet another early start, marked by my noticing blood in my shit before I even left home.  On arrival, the machine that usually treats me was being taken out of service so that it could be serviced.  They gave me a new patient tracker which showed that I would get a lie in until 6AM the next day not having to leave the house until 7AM, and not being treated until the relatively late hour of 9AM.

Wednesday was day 26 and the time came to use the aforementioned machine.  There was also more blood in my shit and some pelvic pain but on the other hand, a more leisurely trip to the hospital.  I'm starting to think about afterward.  I feel I've broken the back of the treatment and despite the niggling little symptoms that are showing up, I believe I will survive with little ill-effect.  Maybe radiation is not so bad after all.  Maria came along to chat to me and told me she was happy with my scans, which was good news, perhaps that

When my time came though, something had happened to the other machine and there was a delay.  I was told about it at the last moment, when I'd already been holding my water for an hour. I couldn't hold it any longer and had to rush to the toilets for a piss.  When the machine was fixed, about ten minutes later, I told them what I'd done but the Radiologist asked if I still felt full, which I did and the treatment went ahead anyway.

Day 27 was Yesterday and at my weekly meeting with Yann, the radiology nurse, he explained that everything was fine except that my weekly scan on Tuesday had shown that my rectum was full with either wind or shit.  I didn't know which but then realised that the feeling I'd been worrying about was constipation, unusual in radiotherapy patients because the radiation tends to cause diarrhoea, rather than its opposite.  Obviously the relatively low fibre diet I'm on offsets the issues caused by radiation.

Today was Day 28, another week over.  An anticlimax perhaps with everything going fairly smoothly, so much so that when I climbed onto the bed for treatment I was to the nanometre, exactly where I needed to be, with no need for adjustment.    And now there are nine treatments left.

My wife keeps telling me to live in the Now, but now it's close to the end, that becomes difficult.  I can think about my new years' resolutions and what I need to do to fulfill them.  Time had stopped and now it is moving again.