Friday, September 29, 2006

 

Hello, all -

It's high time I updated the blog and caught up with everybody.

I am neck deep in chemo and radiation therapy right now. These two treatments dominate our week, as I do radiation everyday Monday through Friday, and chemo is once a week on Thursday. In some ways things are getting easier, and in others much tougher.

With chemo, I started taking anti-nausea pills to control the out of control nausea I usually feel Thursday through Sunday. If I take them on time they really work. Other good news: I only have two more weeks to go!

With radiation, unbelievably I have grown used to wearing that damn cage over my body. I lay down, get strapped in and its over before you know it. The side effects of radiation have really kicked in, however. For the first time in my life, that which has not failed me so far finally has: my hair fell out in a delicious unnatural pattern (see photo). Only days before I had gotten a very military style haircut, so it was nothing for J to finish the rest off with clippers. Also, the radiation dries my skin out badly, including INSIDE my nose. I get so many nosebleeds my nose scabs up on the inside, rendering me with a stuffy nose most of the time. I have found Neosporin on a q-tip works well to heal. I have pretty bad dry mouth, a combination of breathing through my mouth all the time and my salivary glands not working as well (thanks, radiation). The biggest side effect is that my taste buds pretty much do not work. I can taste the very basic flavors of salt, sugar, bitter. No food tastes like itself with the exception of chocolate (I can still taste chocolate! YAAAYY!) I ate some Starburst candy the other day and it tasted like I was eating wax. No fruit flavor (even in real fruit). I have found food now must be eaten with texture as the main criteria, because my smell is gone forever and my taste is on vacation).

I was complaining to J the other day about being all beat up with this disease. From only July 8, I have lost all or part of all 5 of my senses. My left eye is gone. My left ear now is muffled and "bubbly" when I yawn. Smell is dead (forever). Taste is in a coma. I can not feel much of my face and head. It is actually starting to get me down, because I'm not whole and I will never be again. Awww. Food and cooking are not a joy to me anymore. I can't smell a slow cooker or a cake in the oven. When I "taste" these foods, no matter how delicious, they are flavorless.

There is, perhaps, light at the end of the tunnel. I have been told there is a good chance that many of the side effects I am experiencing will abate. Nobody wants to tell me they will completely come back, but the consensus seems to be a return of some of my taste and hair. My dry skin and nosebleeds should go away as well.

I'll close for now. See ya.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

 
Hello all-

Thanks for all the comments and support! I just wanted to quickly update everything and let you know about chemo therapy (the images of the mask are radiation only). Chemo is, of course, chemical therapy. On Thursdays, I go in to my chemo doctor's office and get my chemo treatment. What is it like? Well, I sit in a chair in a room with many other people doing the same thing. I receive a series of IV drips that are the chemicals used to treat my cancer. The whole treatment takes roughly 2.5 hours, so bring a book!

Treatment on the first day or so is not so bad. One of the drip bags they give is an anti-nausea medicine. I guess it works pretty well because I didn't feel really sick until Sunday, when it hit like a freight train. I don't think I ate one scrap all day.

To understand how bad the chemicals taste, you'd have to drink lighter fluid. This taste permeates your mouth and tongue all the way down to your stomach. In addition to the severe nausea, imagine the taste of your favorite foods mixed with this chemical. These are the major reasons people simply do not want to eat while on chemo and may lose weight (I'm down 7.5 pounds in one week).

The good news? Well, chemo therapy makes cancer cells more susceptible to radiation therapy. It may be very bad medicine, but it is best. Also, the nausea seems to erode during the week. I write this post on a Tuesday after a Thursday treatment, and I have only scant nausea. Lastly, I only have to do my chemo until the radiation therapy is done (seven weeks total). Some people have months-long therapy.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

 
R and I would like to send a special thanks to L & B for being so thoughtful. Your donation was greatly appreciated.

Also, a special thanks to our friend J. J came for a visit over the labor day weekend. J took me to the spa for the day! J gave the gift of college football to R, now he is able to watch all OSU football games.

A special thanks to T, my friend here in AZ for her gift to me and all her support.

We would also like to thank everyone for supporting the blog and for keeping our family in your thoughts and prayers.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

 





The above images are the mask I was describing in my previous post. Pretty scary, huh? If you fear tight places, don't ever get radiation therapy.

 
Hello all –

It has been some time now since we have updated our blog. Only yesterday, however, I started the radiation treatments which will continue for seven weeks. I wanted to keep everyone up to date on this, and tell you a little about the treatment. Photographs will come soon because this treatment is really unbelievable and difficult to describe.

The actual radiation itself is painless and brief. Once things get rolling, the radioactive beam is on less than ten minutes, and that comes in bursts. The nightmare of the treatment is getting prepped for the beam.

I’m not sure if I have shared this with you, but the treatment involves the use of a sophisticated mask which covers my head and torso approximately down to my heart. This is where the photos will come in handy, because until you see this, you won’t believe it. The mask is made of a heavy gauge plastic mesh. It originally is a flat stiff piece which is shaped like the silhouette of a person’s upper body (chest and head). The piece is soaked in water to make it pliable. The patient then lies on their back, and this pliable plastic is laid over their head and upper body, such that the plastic forms exactly to your unique shape. It does not sound so bad, until they bolt the mask down to the table in about ten places. They do this so the mask is extremely form fitting. Over time (20 minutes or so) the masks hardens. So there you are, lying on a table with a hard plastic mesh mask (bolted to the table) covering completely your head and upper body. Your arms are tied down, there is a tongue depressor shoved through the mash into your mouth, and they have you inside a CT machine. Do not worry. It only takes about an hour. It is medieval.

This only describes the very first time. From now on, we use the mask which is already made, and I will not be in a CT machine. I will, however, wear the mask and be bolted to the table with my hands tied down and a tongue depressor shoved in my mouth. The treatments could last roughly thirty minutes from beginning to end. Once finished the mask is removed. I sport a brilliant checkerboard pattern on my skin for several hours.

What a gas.

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