Anyone should now be able to post comments to the blog, after I've adjusted those settings.
mike
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Settling in for a long run
It looks like all of the pieces are in place to take this thing on, according to the docs' plans. We've met with all of the key players and have managed to find a schedule that fits for everyone, so far. Again, we have been so impressed with the responses from all of the medical personnel, in and out of the hospital.
Mike finishes his first week of treatment this afternoon and then has the weekend off, which will be a welcome thing for both of us--especially Terry, who is logging plenty of extra miles around ATL.
Most of the what the doctors predicted has started to show for these early stages: loss of appetite, increasing fatigue, low-level nausea, and some difficulty in swallowing. While those don't sound like positive signs, the strength of the symptoms are well within the expected ranges, so nothing to be worried about. The key now is to monitor those symptoms and keep them in a tolerable range for the next several weeks of treatment.
The blog seems to be working wonders in so many ways (more about that in another post), so please keep checking it, and posting to it when you can.
In the meantime, enjoy your weekend, and stay in touch.
mike and terry
Mike finishes his first week of treatment this afternoon and then has the weekend off, which will be a welcome thing for both of us--especially Terry, who is logging plenty of extra miles around ATL.
Most of the what the doctors predicted has started to show for these early stages: loss of appetite, increasing fatigue, low-level nausea, and some difficulty in swallowing. While those don't sound like positive signs, the strength of the symptoms are well within the expected ranges, so nothing to be worried about. The key now is to monitor those symptoms and keep them in a tolerable range for the next several weeks of treatment.
The blog seems to be working wonders in so many ways (more about that in another post), so please keep checking it, and posting to it when you can.
In the meantime, enjoy your weekend, and stay in touch.
mike and terry
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
In Case You're Wondering
This is what Mike looks like, after a clean shave, so how can you blame Terry for falling more in love with him? And, yes, that is his insufferable smirk that you thought you've seen over the many years. It's still too early to know if the chemo will have any effect on his scalp hair.
As you can easily see, the tumor is on the left side of his face, just under the jawbone. It should not get any larger, and should actually show signs of reducing in the next week or so.
The Day 2 radiation treatment went very well--with special thanks to the med-tech staffer who cut out the parts of the restraining mask that made Mike's claustrophobia go "Tilt!!!" the first time they put it on. And, oh yeah--those little blue pills.
We had the consult yesterday with the GI doc who will install a feeding "peg" to Mike's stomach, allowing him to have direct hydration and feeding, getting around the anticipated discomfort from chewing and swallowing that will happen in the next week or so.
Thanks to all who have responded to the blogs, called and talked, left messages, or emailed--even if just to say "Hey."
mike and terry
Today was the easiest day so far, only one trip downtown for radiation. Mike is being an excellent patient. Yes, I know that's hard to believe, but he's got a great attitude about everything--treatment plan, the big shave, eating only soft foods and me driving his car. Tomorrow will be long with an early appointment for a speech and swallowing eval, radiation, quick trip home for a nap, and back to the hospital for round two of radiation. Thanks to my brother, Damon and Paul S. for stopping by this evening. We really appreciate the company. Love the babyface, but I would give anything to have that beard and mustache back...Terry
Today was the easiest day so far, only one trip downtown for radiation. Mike is being an excellent patient. Yes, I know that's hard to believe, but he's got a great attitude about everything--treatment plan, the big shave, eating only soft foods and me driving his car. Tomorrow will be long with an early appointment for a speech and swallowing eval, radiation, quick trip home for a nap, and back to the hospital for round two of radiation. Thanks to my brother, Damon and Paul S. for stopping by this evening. We really appreciate the company. Love the babyface, but I would give anything to have that beard and mustache back...Terry
Monday, February 23, 2009
Baby Face Gets Treatment Day 1: Chemo + Radiation
After being told that there was a 100% chance of losing facial hair from the radiation, Mike shaved is face totally clean for the first time since early college, when he first started his moustache. He's had a beard since 1990, so Terry had never seen him without facial hair. We've made a deal: I'll keep shaving if she wears a wig to bed one night a week. (In your dreams, sweetheart! tm)
On the serious side, my clean-shaven face shows the exact location and relative size of the tumor--and it looks somewhat larger with no facial hair to cover it.
Even though it was a very long day, getting both a chemo treatment and a radiation treatment, we came away very enouraged by what when down. The Chemo "Infusion Room" is very large, bright and comfortable, with a great staff. I got about 4 and a half hours of IVs that started and ended with substantial amounts of hydration. Sandwiched between those was an hour of Cisplatin IV. Glad to report that I felt no discomfort furing that time.
I was later taken to the Radiation Oconology Lab, where they adjusted a light mask that is used to hold my head in exactly the right place for the radiation dosage. Before the mask adjustments, I went "white knuckle" in about 2 seconds, from the mask pressing on the tumor, which in turn pressed on my throat. Again, the docs and tech staff were wonderful in getting me comfortable enough to get what they called "great shots" at the tumor from several angles.
So, the treatment schedule is set for the entire 6 weeks. The next big questions are "Are the treatments working?" and "What side effects will I experience?"
More later.
mike
On the serious side, my clean-shaven face shows the exact location and relative size of the tumor--and it looks somewhat larger with no facial hair to cover it.
Even though it was a very long day, getting both a chemo treatment and a radiation treatment, we came away very enouraged by what when down. The Chemo "Infusion Room" is very large, bright and comfortable, with a great staff. I got about 4 and a half hours of IVs that started and ended with substantial amounts of hydration. Sandwiched between those was an hour of Cisplatin IV. Glad to report that I felt no discomfort furing that time.
I was later taken to the Radiation Oconology Lab, where they adjusted a light mask that is used to hold my head in exactly the right place for the radiation dosage. Before the mask adjustments, I went "white knuckle" in about 2 seconds, from the mask pressing on the tumor, which in turn pressed on my throat. Again, the docs and tech staff were wonderful in getting me comfortable enough to get what they called "great shots" at the tumor from several angles.
So, the treatment schedule is set for the entire 6 weeks. The next big questions are "Are the treatments working?" and "What side effects will I experience?"
More later.
mike
Friday, February 20, 2009
Prairie Dogs and Cancer Treatment
This past Monday Terry and I were getting the full details on the nature of my cancer and how the medical team planned to treat it. We were at the point of information overload when the radiation oncologist began to describe how the radiation and chemo work together to kill the cancer cells in the tumor.
"It's like hunting prairie dogs."
And, then it got weird...
So, it's just the three of us in this very small examination room and Terry and I are biting our tongues and trying not to make eye contact, so that we don't just blurt out laughing. The doctor forges ahead with his analogy:
"Imagine a long line of prairie dog holes stretching far across the...prairie. Each hole is a cancer cell. And, aimed at each hole is a bow and arrow, set on automatic firing. The chemo works to get some of the prairie dogs to pop out of their holes--at which time the radiation shoots at them like arrows--killing those prairie dogs that had popped up at that precise moment. Not all of the prairie dogs pop up at once, so the process needs to be repeated many times, until at some point all of the prairie dogs have been killed."
At some level, his analogy does make sense, but the last two words we expected to hear during a cancer treatment consult were "prairie dogs." But, it does make you wonder why medical students need to go into such large loan debt when they can learn all they need to know about treating cancer by watching the Animal Planet on TV.
On the serious side of things, today is that last prep day for us, with several appointments lined up. The treatments start on Monday, so please keep us in your thoughts, and check the blog for updates as we can post them.
"It's like hunting prairie dogs."
And, then it got weird...
So, it's just the three of us in this very small examination room and Terry and I are biting our tongues and trying not to make eye contact, so that we don't just blurt out laughing. The doctor forges ahead with his analogy:
"Imagine a long line of prairie dog holes stretching far across the...prairie. Each hole is a cancer cell. And, aimed at each hole is a bow and arrow, set on automatic firing. The chemo works to get some of the prairie dogs to pop out of their holes--at which time the radiation shoots at them like arrows--killing those prairie dogs that had popped up at that precise moment. Not all of the prairie dogs pop up at once, so the process needs to be repeated many times, until at some point all of the prairie dogs have been killed."
At some level, his analogy does make sense, but the last two words we expected to hear during a cancer treatment consult were "prairie dogs." But, it does make you wonder why medical students need to go into such large loan debt when they can learn all they need to know about treating cancer by watching the Animal Planet on TV.
On the serious side of things, today is that last prep day for us, with several appointments lined up. The treatments start on Monday, so please keep us in your thoughts, and check the blog for updates as we can post them.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Medical Team Metzler
Dr. Charles Henderson is an oncologist and leader of the group of doctors who will be treating Mike. He came very highly recommended. Most interesting, he is a 5-year survivor of this very same kind of cancer, and has been featured in the local press and TV. Check out:
http://www.bizjournals.com/atlanta/stories/2004/05/17/focus6.html
It is rare that a doctor can bring the experience of a patient to this kind of medical problem.
http://www.bizjournals.com/atlanta/stories/2004/05/17/focus6.html
It is rare that a doctor can bring the experience of a patient to this kind of medical problem.
So far...
It's 3:30 am on Thursday, February 19, 2009. I'm awake at this hour to take my overnight dosage of pain medicine, and it seemed a good a time as any to learn how to set up a blog and to do my first entry--which will be a re-cap of events up to now. Setting up this blog was very easy and simple, and I'm very surprised to be posting to it already--so here goes.
In August of 2008 I started a series of appointments for some long-overdue dental work. I was experiencing some pain in my lower left jaw, which was then attributable to an impacted wisdom tooth growing nearly horizontally into another tooth in that area. Both teeth were extracted, but the pain persisted--and got a lot worse. The first diagnosis was TMD from the many dental sessions with my mouth extended wide open. That diagnosis was discounted fairly soon, and I was referred to an ear, nose and throat (ENT) specialist as the pain kept getting worse and worse.
After a negative CT scan, a MRI showed a mass of tissue at the left base of my tongue and pressing against the tri-facial nerve in that area--thus the constant, acute pain. The tissue mass was biopsied and shown positive for the squamous carcinoma at a Stage 3 or 4a (localized advanced, but not metasticized).
The course of treatment will be 6 weeks of chemotherapy combined with radiation, followed by 4-6 weeks of recovery. This blog starts four days before the treatment begins, with several appointments to prepare us (my wife Terry and I), for what's ahead.
The first question, of course, was How does a non-smoker/non-tobacco user get this kind of cancer? We were surprised to learn that it's caused by the Human Papillanoma Virus (HPV). Researchers think that the virus 'parks' in that area and can then trigger carcinoma growth at any time from 5 to 35 years after the infection occurs. It is not a lifestyle-related disease.
I will use the next posting to describe my thoughts, feelings, and outlook as this process begins. I think it's important for readers to understand the attitude that we are taking into this with us. That actually hints at the first part of our attitude--there is no "I" in cancer. We are looking at this as a shared experience, and both of us are equally important in helping to reach our goal of me having a cancer-free body with a long and healthy life ahead. Lots more on that theme as this goes along, I suspect.
In August of 2008 I started a series of appointments for some long-overdue dental work. I was experiencing some pain in my lower left jaw, which was then attributable to an impacted wisdom tooth growing nearly horizontally into another tooth in that area. Both teeth were extracted, but the pain persisted--and got a lot worse. The first diagnosis was TMD from the many dental sessions with my mouth extended wide open. That diagnosis was discounted fairly soon, and I was referred to an ear, nose and throat (ENT) specialist as the pain kept getting worse and worse.
After a negative CT scan, a MRI showed a mass of tissue at the left base of my tongue and pressing against the tri-facial nerve in that area--thus the constant, acute pain. The tissue mass was biopsied and shown positive for the squamous carcinoma at a Stage 3 or 4a (localized advanced, but not metasticized).
The course of treatment will be 6 weeks of chemotherapy combined with radiation, followed by 4-6 weeks of recovery. This blog starts four days before the treatment begins, with several appointments to prepare us (my wife Terry and I), for what's ahead.
The first question, of course, was How does a non-smoker/non-tobacco user get this kind of cancer? We were surprised to learn that it's caused by the Human Papillanoma Virus (HPV). Researchers think that the virus 'parks' in that area and can then trigger carcinoma growth at any time from 5 to 35 years after the infection occurs. It is not a lifestyle-related disease.
I will use the next posting to describe my thoughts, feelings, and outlook as this process begins. I think it's important for readers to understand the attitude that we are taking into this with us. That actually hints at the first part of our attitude--there is no "I" in cancer. We are looking at this as a shared experience, and both of us are equally important in helping to reach our goal of me having a cancer-free body with a long and healthy life ahead. Lots more on that theme as this goes along, I suspect.
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