Day one of the boost, and my blisters are weeping for joy that it'll soon be over. There's no longer a comfortable position. Even sleeping isn't restful anymore. And I'm bored stiff with saline soaks and antiobiotic burn cream. Deodorant is out of the question on the right side, and the only comfortable wardrobe choices are soft and loose -- more like pyjamas than anything else. I dare not leave the house without ID; if I'm struck by a car, I don't want to be identified in the news as a homeless person!
The boost treatments actually take longer to deliver than the regular kind. That's 'cause the team comes into the room to spin the bed 90 degrees, halfway through the treatment. It feels a little like being at Canada's Wonderland, if you don't count the fact that no one wants to go on the ride with me. Still, I'm in and out in less than 15 minutes, which means that it'll be all finished in an hour.
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