The fear returned as she lay on a gurney in the darkened room.
Frances Vogeler had tried to appear brave. Just a few minutes earlier in a waiting room, she had tried to speak to and make friends with everyone there.
But now, the others were gone, and she was alone. The room, where she had to go five days a week for six weeks to receive radiation treatments, had a sick, medicinal smell.
Next to her was a massive piece of equipment that had been aligned to deliver radiation to a precise, tattooed mark on her right breast. Even though she knew it wasn’t likely, she couldn’t help but think about the machine tipping over onto her.