Today, I had a planning meeting with the radiotherapy team at the Rosemere Cancer Centre at Preston Hospital.
After a dodgy start to the day during which I got myself worked up over something as silly as the lack of available parking spaces (my emotions are still a little raw after the chaos of the past few weeks), I went in for my appointment.
The radiotherapy team couldn’t have been friendlier, and they talked me through everything I needed to know in order to begin my treatment in two weeks’ time.
This included being fitted for a mask.
The mask is used to hold your head and neck still while you are undergoing your treatment, and everyone has their own individual mask moulded.
They start out flat, like this…
Then, after you’ve taken up your position on the table, the plastic mould is soaked in hot water, placed over your face and moulded into shape by a team of nurses.
You can possibly just make out that the mask is then pinned down to the table to keep you from moving at all.
Here’s another view…
I can’t say it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn (and I’ve been a panto dame many, many times), but it wasn’t as terrifying as I’d imagined it would be.
Plus, the team were incredible.
I couldn’t be in better hands.
The final task of the day was to give me a tattoo.
Yes, a tattoo!
This is so my body can be lined up in exactly the same position, session after session.
And here, it is…
My first tattoo. Sitting proudly on my chest…
What do you mean you can’t see it? It’s right there!
I feel like such a badass!