There is a new art exhibit, and all is spruced up. They welcomed the new machine. It seems my machine was fine, but this one is easier and more efficient for the operators. They still realize how important the human touch is in the whole process. I learned that a linear accelerator is what was used on me. I have always meant to go to Stanford and see the linear accelerator, and here I was, experiencing one, first-hand, and I didn't even know it. It was odd because I drove up there, thinking about a new visualization for the word, "cancer." Elaine and I were talking about that. People used to see a death sentence. Now, it is an experience. I thought radiation was being burned, but really, I was just being exposed to fast particles. It is exciting to think of it that way.
My breast is still sore and swollen, so I don't have to have a mammogram on the left side for another seven months. Hooray! Unfortunately, the right one is due for its joyous squeeze, though I am told the new machine here, too, is warmer, and friendlier.
I was startled by the earthquake last night, and felt some fear, wondering where it was centered, and if anyone was harmed. I feel more fragile, I realize, as to disasters. I don't think of them as happening over there. I believe it can happen here.
A friend can't use her tickets to an Ian Anderson concert, so has offered them to Steve and me. We will be floating in the heavenly realm of the flute tonight.