Staring at the ceiling, motionless, I gradually became aware of little pools of water collecting in my ears. This was a strange and itchy sort of feeling so it was some time before I realized I was crying. I wondered if they could see me in the little window. I hoped not since I was supposed to be brave and, especially since this was my last treatment, happy. After all, I had lived up to everyone's expectations through the surgery, the chemotherapy and now, finally, the radiation. No one had known how frightened I really was. In a few minutes the machine stopped - the click of the lock releasing on the thick metal door signaled that it was over. Suddenly there was a rush of activity and everyone was smiling. Me too, but those bloody tears wouldn't stop. Everyone pretended not to notice, after all this was a joyous occasion. Even my neck was wet, streaking the inky black marks - radiation "guidelines." Yes, I thought, as I got dressed, I had been a good little girl. I had made everyone happy.
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