Radiation Day 5

I'm on day five of my radiation treatments. Dr. Deere said to me during my appointment that in week two and three will be when I experience skin changes. Let's cross our fingers that, that won't actually happen to me. I have experienced the fatigue and I've gotten dizzy a couple of times.
I check in and there are about 20 people in the waiting area just like me awaiting their treatment. The front desk phone rings, a few minutes later Nikki says, "Go on back Leslie." I grab my coat, coffee, phone, and keys and go through the double doors labeled PATIENTS ONLY. For some reason, I still manage to forget I need to change into a gown and walk right past the women's dressing room. I immediately turn around and go in. Once again, I grab my things and head clear to the back where my tech and nurse are waiting for me. "Good morning Leslie." Now, of course everything is routine even though it's only been five days. The first day, however, was anything but routine.
I tried to talk myself out of radiation for months and as my wound was healing I knew I would no longer be able to avoid it. In fact, my oncologist said to me that I needed to have my radiation completed by my next appointment which was in April. There was no-where else to hide. I couldn't hide behind my scar anymore, or court dates involving my children, or the anger towards Becky and Roger, or my anger at the world.
I approach the table and they tell me to set my things down and lay down. Right away they start positioning me. Now, don't move, we'll move you. They grab a triangular pillow to insert under my knees and then my left arm raises up above my head and rests into two molds; one for my shoulder to rest in and one for my elbow. My right arm is to lay down my side and I am not to move at all. Now, this is when I sneeze, and I get an itch on my nose that won't go away. I tell the tech that my nose itches, and I'll tell you, they are serious about not moving. "Here, I'll itch it for you," she says.
After they've tugged on you and marked on you with a sharpie, and labeled you with stickers, and tell you to move your head a certain way, it's TIME! It's time for this scary machine to zap you with radiated beams. You'd think they would be red beams, but they are green. What's so strange about the beams is that they are on opposite sides of the room. It kind of reminds you of a Lazar show.
Now, for the really scary part. The tech and the nurse place a square, open-shaped box underneath a circular dial, and then another square device underneath that. Then they lower the machine almost to your nose, and she says, "Don't worry, it' won't touch you." The fear at this point isn't whether this machine is going to collapse on top of you, or not, it's just pure fear. You have no idea what to expect, and you have absolutely no control over any of it. You have to trust these medical professionals with your life.