Ringing the bell
The second half of my radiation treatment has been nothing short of a roller coaster!
I routinely ran into patients of all ages, waiting to receive their treatment at the Proton center. However, the day I saw a toddler in a diaper on his way to radiation, I completely broke down. I just sat down in the lobby, unable to control my emotions. Ian from the front desk came and sat next to me, held my hand, and just let me vent. I talked about how gut-wrenching it was to see that toddler go through so much pain. I cried about how unfair it all seemed. I wondered out loud what that little boy's life would be like. Ian let me talk and cry, and, when I went quiet, he gently shared his thoughts. He told me that, as hard as he too finds young children going through radiation, he takes comfort in the fact that these kids are getting the best treatment possible. He mentioned how they often get letters from the children's families, two, three Christmases later, letting them know how well the kids had recovered and how wonderfully they are doing. He said that they (at the hospital) always hang on to those success stories and try and stay positive. Ian's words helped me see those young patients' worlds differently and I couldn't feel more grateful!
Just this past week, I saw a little girl, no more than 7 or 8, in a cute little swimsuit, excitedly walking out of the hotel's pool area. She looked genuinely content and blissfully unaware of her bald head (from radiation), pronounced incisions around the crown of her head (from surgery) and a gaping wound on her face (where her left eye used to be). If she can smile and live every day to the fullest, so can I and anyone else!
Despite my determination to go through with my radiation treatment as gracefully as possible, there were days when I simply could not get off the radiation chair. I felt so out of it at times that I could not even open my eyes for several minutes after. The technicians- Reuben, Trang, Jill, John, and many others- were all some of the kindest people I have ever met, and they made sure to cover me with warm blankets, get me water, offer their shoulder and do everything they possibly could to provide me with comfort.
While Mon-Fri of the past eight weeks had me dealing with such raw emotions, my weekends were spent celebrating festivals, attending prayers, concerts and dance recitals, hosting lunches and dining out, teaching Telugu classes, and seeing the grandparents off on their return trip home, sniff.
Finally, after 32 sessions of radiation and 50 days of my living out of the suitcase, I got to ring the bell at the Fred Hutch Cancer Center and mark the end of my treatment today.
Ringing the bell is a ritual most Hindus follow at temples and during prayers. While I won't claim to be the expert on this matter, I do believe that the main purpose of this bell-ringing ritual is to rid one's mind of all the negative energy and to focus the thoughts on the divine. As I rang the bell this afternoon, I knew that the medical team already did everything they could to clear my brain off the tumor cells. All I need to do now is to simply focus on the most precious and the divine called life!
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