Claustrophobia

During my treatments I get three bursts of protons at different angles. The first dose is from below the table angling up into the area under my jaw. The second dose is more of a straight-on burst. For the third dose the sending unit is aimed at an angle of about 25 degrees pointing down on my neck. To get in the best position, my table is elevated to the point where the monstrous machine is only an inch from my face.

When the therapists fasten the mask to my face, It would be easy to have a feeling of claustrophobia and even more so with the behemoth pressing against my face. Today I was wondering why I am not bothered by this anxiety disorder. I did not dwell on those thoughts, but I could not help but think of my mother.

When Cheryl and I and our two preschool boys told our families goodbye at the airport in Jackson, Mississippi, it was not a good scene. The excitement of moving to France to study French got our adrenaline pumped, so we were not emotional about leaving—until all of our parents started crying. Granted they were not crying about not getting to see Cheryl and me for four years, but they were going to miss the only grandchildren in either of our families. 

We were fairly certain that my parents would not come to see us as they had never traveled by air, and they probably could not afford it anyhow. After we had lived in Tours, France for four months, my dad sent us an air letter (For those who are not old enough to know what this is, I have included a link: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/air-letter) informing us that they were going to come to France for the Christmas holidays.

We were shocked, and then we were further surprised when we found out how they were going to buy the air tickets—by selling a pickup and three cows!

We drove to Paris to pick my mom and dad and my youngest brother, Danny, up at the airport. It was a happy reunion, but my mother looked very pale and a little disoriented. As she hugged me, she said, ”I thought I was going to die on that plane!” She was claustrophobic, and she suffered during the entire trip, but knowing that she was going to see us kept her going. 

As we were waiting to pick up their luggage, she said to us, ”I will never step on a plane again in my life.” I quickly said to her, “Mom, are you going to stay here in France with us? If not, then you will have to get back on a plane to return to Mississippi.” She said that she would make herself get back on the plane one more time, but that would be the last time she would ever fly. And, it was!