Well that sucked

I had my first brachytherapy treatment yesterday, and it sucked. That's by far the worst part of this battle I'm waging against cancer.
The nurses there are probably among the nicest and most empathetic human beings on the face of the earth. Little brachy angels sent from heaven to take care of me. I know why now- because the treatment bloody well hurts.
They sedate me (but only just enough to keep me from saying, "Fuck this", hopping off the table, and running into the streets in my bare arse),

then proceed to fill my various organs with balloons and ply my vagina with every instrument under the sun. I think I saw them try to stuff a tuba in there.

Maybe that was the drugs...
Just when they have everything feeling down there like it's about to explode, they are ready to start. And by "they" I mean the doctor, intern, 3 nurses and physicist. It was quite the party.

They roll me down the hall to have a CT scan, where they inform me that I am full of poop (tell me something I don't already know- refer to blog #2) and that will make the procedure more painful. Awesome. Can't wait. Thanks for the heads up.

They finally get me and the robot set up and let the radiating rock hang out with my lady parts a while, then informed me that the treatment was successful. Thank Gawd. I'm going to spend the day in bed in the fetal position until I get over the trauma of it all.
I never wanted a boring life, but this wasn't exactly what I meant, either.