Quarter Mile Mark

August 25, 2006 - Today was my ninth radiation treatment which effectively makes me 25% finished.

I met with Dr. Tonnessen on Wednesday who examined me by feeling the tumor at the base of my tongue. He indicated that it was noticeably smaller, maybe shrinking from the size of a pea to a "split-pea." My initial response was that this is obviously a good thing but it occured to me later that I really don't know if this is something to be excited about after one week of treatment or if this degree of progress is par for the course. I suppose those things aren't mutually exclusive, however, so I'll remain guardedly optimistic. Really, in my mind I was hoping the conversation would go something like this:

Tonnessen - "The tumor is noticeably smaller. It's about 1/2 the size it was last week."
Me - "Is that a good thing or is it to be expected?"
Tonnessen - "It's a very good thing and serves as clear, unequivocal proof that you will be cured and will never have to worry about cancer again!"

Is that too much to ask? As for my weekly meeting with Dr. Dar, he examined the beginning stages of my Erbitux "rash" (read: horrifying acne) and made the comment that at least with colon cancer patients, that rash is considered a good thing because those patients who exhibit it generally do better. Of course, no definition of "better" is offered nor does this necessarily mean that such results hold true for head and neck cancer patients. As he is wont to do, Dr. Dar prescribed me some sort of antibiotic for the rash which, of course, I will not be taking. Don't get me wrong, I really like Dr. Dar but I imagine most medical oncologists like to prescribe alot of medicines. It's what they do.

Now, on to my current condition. The effects of radiation are becoming more prominent. Food has begun to taste different or lose its taste altogether. Many things have a somewhat muted and slightly bitter flavor. Also, the texture of many foods seems different all of a sudden. I tried to eat an apple and had to spit it out. It was like biting into a burlap bag. Even bottled water has begun to taste like it came from a rusty pipe. It just makes the idea of food very unappealing. Mealtime is becoming quite a chore. Fortunately, I don't have any physical discomfort from chewing or swallowing... yet. I know that is yet to come but I'm thankful to have made it through two weeks without it so far. Aside from the taste issues, I am really starting to feel the fatigue of radiation poisoning begin to take effect. I'm not motivated to do much of anything... including update this blog. I want to read more, meditate, work out, catch up on the Terps, etc. but all I've really been able to rally for the past few days is the trip from my bed to my sofa. Thank God for satellite TV. I can't begin to imagine what I would do without it these days.

Besides the radiation effects, the biggest issue I am currently dealing with is the Erbitux rash. To look at me, you'd think that heaven had rained down some sort of terrible pox on me as though I were Pharoah himself holding captive the Israelites. I half expect to wake up tomorrow to find my house covered in frogs or locusts. It is that bad. I'm sure you're thinking that I'm a little paranoid but no... it is THAT bad. It covers not only my entire face including my lips and eyebrows but it is also covers my neck, chest and back. It's in my ears and covers my scalp. No one told me about the scalp. For some reason, that part itches terribly. The sores are generally puss filled like normal acne but unlike normal acne, they seem to die off much more quickly by oozing and ultimately drying out, only to be replaced by three more. What is most remarkable to me about this is that there is nothing gradual about it. It doesn't get worse by the day but, literally, by the hour. I tried to take some pictures to post but none of them do it justice so you'll just have to take my word for it for now. I promise to get some up soon. For fear of frightening small children, I have made the choice to confine myself to the house save for necessary trips for treatment and Mason's football games. It's only for a few more weeks (or so I keep telling myself.)

There is one experience from the week that I wanted to mention. The place where I get my radiation treatment also does PET scans. This week, I noticed a young woman, maybe late 30's or early 40's waiting in the reception area. I assumed she waited for an elderly parent but was suprised to see a young girl, no more than 17 or 18, come out to greet her with the telltale bandage on her arm and goody bag of snacks in her hand. This was her daughter. The mother was stoic and business-like as she instructed the nurse to make sure the results were sent to the right doctors. Clearly she had done this before, perhaps many times. She wanted to make sure that her daughter's new oncologist was consulted and not her pediatric oncologist. It struck me that there may be no two sadder words than pediatric oncologist. I am so thankful that this is happening to me and not my little boy...