I’ve had people requesting updates on my cancer treatment, so I thought I’d give one here.
For those who only follow this blog, I spoke prematurely when I said that my diagnosis was not going to be a significant impact on my health: shortly after I made my previous post, the doctors decided that I needed radiation.
There’s… a lot I could say about it. (I got a “So you have cancer” packet of pamphlets and information from the hospital. It’s half an inch thick. I summarized the important parts in a notes file on my phone, which is still three pages long.) Side effects, things I have to do, measures (and medicines) I might need to take, what I need to have on me at all times, how to cope physically and mentally, and on and on.
However, I doubt most people are interested in the minutiae, so I’ll just paint a picture of what radiotherapy looks like.
When I’m called back from the waiting room in the second basement, I take a brief walk to the treatment room, which doesn’t look much different from any other hospital procedure room. I don’t change into a gown; an open-collared shirt suffices for where I’m getting the radiation. I recite my birth date, the radiation therapists ask how I’m getting on, if I have any new side effects, I take off my mask and glasses and such, and lie down on the treatment table, which, in the way of hospitals, is about the size and comfort level of an ironing board.
About a month ago, I had a CT scan during which a mesh mask was custom-fitted to me, by heating it up and having nurses press it down to conform it to my face and neck. It now has holes cut out for my eyes and mouth, as well as the treatment area, and the radiation therapists strap me down to the table with it. (It both prevents one from moving during the treatment and helps to pinpoint the location of the radiation.)
A gel pack is positioned over the treatment area to catch any stray ions, gaps between that and the mask are stuffed with paper, and after the therapists trade some medical jargon, they leave the room to the sound of an extremely digital clock tone. (You know, the classic bell song, like Big Ben makes on the hour?) Sometimes, the therapists need to come back in to make some adjustments to the gel pack or padding. Then, the large machine that dominates about a third of the room, all plastic and indecipherable screens, rotates a couple arms around me while I lie there. I feel nothing.
They play music in the room, usually oldies (as I begrudgingly admit the songs of my childhood are now). The actual treatment time takes about as long as “Bohemian Rhapsody”.
That’s it. The full session takes fifteen minutes, and the radiation department operates like a well-oiled machine. My appointments have never been late, and even when I am, I’m taken in quickly.
I started treatment two weeks ago, every weekday, and have now completed 1/3 of the course. So far, I haven’t had much in the way of side effects. I had a sore throat for a little while last Saturday, terrible dry mouth the following day, and had a headache after getting home from today’s treatment. I’m also getting quite tired at least once during the day, but it’s difficult to tell whether that’s new fatigue or the same that I’ve been fighting for the past few years. I haven’t needed the medicated mouthwash I was given for pain, let alone the liquid morphine.
However, the side effects are supposed to worsen as treatment progresses, and will continue to worsen or at least remain as bad for a few weeks after the treatment has ended, so I’m bracing myself for worse. On the bright side, radiation treatment has come a long way even in the last twenty years, so some aspects shouldn’t be as bad. I shouldn’t lose my hair, as an example.
The good news? It’s critical to maintain one’s weight during radiation therapy, so even if it becomes hard to eat, I have full permission to subsist on ice cream and add calories to other easy-to-swallow foods. Also, on a more personal level, I’ve been given a lot more leeway to play video games.
Ten days down, twenty to go. I got this.
Jinxed 