Wednesday, April 14, 2010

April 14, 2010 – Radiation treatment 1 [34 to go]

Today, we went live.  Ann & drove into Boston.  We left plenty of extra (read: unexpected traffic) time and arrived early.  Once down on L2 in Dana Farber (where the nuclear medicine department is – below ground), I took my new check-in card and placed it under the scanner at the greeter’s desk.  On one monitor, my personal information flashed on the screen for about fifteen seconds and then cleared.  On the second monitor, it showed that “my” machine, Novalis Tx, was on time.  The greeter Roy made sure I had a bottle of water (dry mouth is a major side effect of radiation; the saliva glands get fried) and offered me a second.

Next, we went to the Novalis Tx waiting area and I went into the changing room to strip to the waist and don a johnny (Loomers pun.)  Ann & I sat and read until my name was called.

I followed the tech down the corridor past the control room with my photo on one of the monitors and into the radiation therapy room.  The machine treating me is a Novalis Tx linear accelerator.  If you’re curious, general info on linear accelerators can be found here.  The first thing I did was pull out my iPhone with my music and a tech hooked it into the room’s stereo system.  Immediately, BeJae Fleming came blasting through the speakers (selections from Navigating Limbo and Red Cross Woman – BeJae’s been with me all the way on this journey, so it seemed fitting to start radiation with her songs, voice, and guitar.)  Then I popped out my hearing aids, took off my glasses, and assumed the position on the table with my head & neck on the aligning support.  Unlike yesterday, when everything happened slowly, as soon as I was settled on the table, my mask was put on me and locked down.  A tech told me they would first take a couple of x-rays.  The arms hummed and flat panels covered with lights (not LED’s, something much cooler) inspected me.  A couple of red flashes went off.  The tech returned and moved my shoulders slightly to the left.  She left and I heard the door shut.  Immediately, the arms hummed and began a series of movements.  They would align the position of a third arm with horizontal laser like lights in patterns crossing the entire panel.  I figured out that green light is the lasers’ aligning and red light is the linear accelerator shooting radiation.  As BeJae’s songs filled the room, the three arms danced and flashed lights.  I didn’t feel a thing; the side effects will come gradually.  The radiation will cumulatively affect parts of my mouth (saliva glands, taste buds, swallow muscles, speech box, etc.) while destroying the tumor and cancer cells.   The linear accelerator suddenly got quiet and immediately a tech was unsnapping my mask.  I was up and off the table and techs were “See you tomorrow.”  Time for the next patient.

Today was fascinating from a geek viewpoint.  I know the fatigue and other side effects will hit me soon.  For now, I’ll enjoy the ride and live out sci-fi fantasies.  Any anxiety I had about radiation therapy is gone.  The treatment is a known entity.  In a couple of weeks, the effects of the radiation will present challenges, but it will be a gradual ride to the top of the roller coaster and a fast (though longer) ride down.

Thanks everyone for your support and comfort.  I feel you walking with me.  Cancer treatment is difficult physically and psychologically.  You all soften the blows and I appreciate that beyond words.

Love…

Richard

6 comments:

  1. You have to drive to Boston everyday for the radiation??? Oh man ~ is there somewhere local you can crash during the week?

    ReplyDelete
  2. It's an hour ride with normal traffic; 2+ hours during rush hour, which is what we'll be driving through for the next 9 sessions, and I'm there less than an hour. But it's worth it. The machines at Dana Farber are state of the art, on the cutting edge. Rather be home than away all week. Most of my sessions (late April on) will be at 10:40 am - means a real easy comment.

    Thanks!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oops, commute not comment. Or both, I guess!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am honored beyond words to have been with you, in recorded form, during your first radiation treatment. That is just so lovely. I spent my morning imagining what your experience might be like. I so appreciated seeing the picture of you in your mask. I was comforted just by knowing what the mask looks like. But, reading your description of the experience made me realize what a low-level imagination I have where sci-fi medicine is concerned. I need to ratchet it up a whole lot of notches for your machine.

    I couldn’t find a picture of your Novalis Tx linear accelerator, so I went to another site and looked at pictures of the six million dollar particle accelerator used to attempt to smash protons together to recreate the Big Bang. (The site says that no one knows exactly what will happen if they succeed in smashing the protons together. Hmmm. Is this really a good idea, I wonder?) I figure all those accelerator thingies are probably pretty much the same. They are, aren’t they? I have to say, your linear accelerator sounds amazing. And, even better, it sounds very, very precise. Precision seems like a good thing in a radiation machine.

    I am very proud to be with you as your Big Bang accelerator machine smashes the Alien into oblivion. Science rocks!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hey Foxy,
    I'm back from Denver and AWP - lots of arrogance - I like us better - I thought of you a lot and this writing/memoir of yours, plus your poetry. Have you written/ are you writing any poetry? And are you checking your email? And is it the greenpoet account? I want to send you poems, but I'm untogether and it may have to wait. I'm having shoulder surgery Monday and my arm will be in a sling a couple weeks. I'll figure it out. Your "challenge" gives me perspective. I will go into my ordeal open, looking at the machines as science fiction, take my ipod, and visualize healing. I'm just going to be very loose about this. I'm in so much pain that daily gets worse - calcified tendonitis, so I'm hoping removing the calcium will stop the pain. Visualizing a lot, coloring an anatomy coloring book for fun and relaxation with Sharpies, a really messed up sentence, but you get the idea. I highly encourage coloring. I have my adults in Monday night, and my prisoners, color mandalas before writing. They're beautiful. I want to cut them out and mount them on something. I'm thinking of you and sending love and healing energy your way, and of course, zooms. Much love and support to Ann.
    janie

    ReplyDelete
  6. BeJae: who else to start me musically on this new tour? Yes, precision is a good thing in the Novalis Tx. I'm waiting for the little bang when the Alien is routed and gone.

    Janie: haven't been writing poetry lately. I guess prose has grabbed my hands. Maybe a prose poem will be the bridge? Yup, the greenpoet email address works fine and I am checking email. Sorry to hear about your shoulder - that is very painful and one of those injuries where a comfortable position cannot be found. Still planning to see you & Sondra in St.L in September for Reunion 2010. We'll do a day trip this year for sure!

    BeJae and Janie - gonna have to introduce you one of these days. Jamming and riffing. You're both on fire artistically!

    ReplyDelete