Friday, September 23, 2011

Oral Surgery Completed--Encouraging News

I had the oral surgery today to extract the damaged tooth and do the debrisment (fancy word for scraping) of dead bone tissue. The procedure went well and took only a short time. The hyperbaric treatments seemed to work in healing up all but one ulcer that had a small edge of protruding dead bone. The doctor scraped that away and saw no more dead tissue underneath it--that's the encouraging part. Her opinion is that while my osteoradionecrosis is chronic (because I've had multiple ulcers), it's towards the low end of the ORN severity scale.

She is cautiously optimistic that this could be the extent of it, but made sure I understood that she could make no guaranties. Wait, and be observant was her advice.

So, I'll chalk this up to another one of those things that have and will continue to pop up as side effects from my chemo and radiation treatments two+ years ago. What I've read is that they now consider the time for seeing these side effects at about 5 years, post-treatment. That puts me half the way there.

As always, I'm extremely grateful for being a cancer survivor for this long, and getting back so much of my pre-cancer life, and will stay prepared to deal with whatever comes next in our battle with the Prairie Dogs.

My apologies for not alerting Team Mike about the oral surgery, but we didn't know until yesterday that it was happening today.

I'll try to be more regular with my blog postings in the future, even if it's just to say that "no news is good news."

Mike

Sunday, September 11, 2011

My Secrist 4100-H


Many of you have asked what the hyperbaric chamber looks like, so I thought I'd devote a short post to my Sechrist 4100-H...and what a beauty she is! Her cruising speed is 0 miles per hour, never needs gas-oline (but guzzles pure oxygen), and the on-board air-breathing apparatus is standard equipment. She can achieve 1.25 atmospheres of pressure for days on end. She comes standard with many safety features, such as a clear unbreakable full-length acrylic tube, heavy air-tight doors and state of the art A/C system. Her communications system features a secure, private phone line with a manual back-up system (sign language between me and the doctor or RN).

My Sechrist 4100-H has a personal audio and video tube-entertainment system which features a 24-inch flat screen monitor on an adjustable rail, for optimal distance control. Cable hookup is optional, but highly recommended. The video system is backed up by rear-mounted stereo speakers.

Other optional equipment includes a personalized water bottle (highly recommended), a urination tube, and bed pan (which explains why I never go to Waffle House before taking her "on the road".

The Sechrist 4100-H comes in six signature colors – Diamond White, Sahara Beige, Platinum, Crystal Green, Jade Green and Sechrist Blue (my color, shown above). I have been told that Michael Jackson's custom 4100-H was painted by the guys at American Chopper to look like a Harley-Davidson Road King.

The Sechrist 4100-H has no sticker price--if you have to ask, you can't afford it. The patient in the photo above is a trained professional (do not try this at home), and the depicted doctor is a required additional purchase--at $650 a treatment. Seriously--do the math for 40 treatments.

Obviously, spending too much time in the Sechrist 4100-H makes one prone to silliness, so be sure to have a designated air-breathing companion when you take yours for a daily two-hour cruise around the treatment facility.

mike

Monday, September 5, 2011

Stuck inside a hyperbaric chamber, with the ORN blues again

So far, I've completed 25 of my 30 pre-surgery hyperbaric oxygen treatments (aka, "dives"). I'll have three more before I leave of Japan this coming Friday, and the last two when I return. Then I have a consult with the oral surgeon, who will assess my progress and have a better idea of how extensive the surgery will be. Then, after the surgery I have 10 more dives, and will get my life back.

I have found a workable strategy for dealing with the daily routine of getting to the hospital and the monotony of the treatments. I just don't think about how intrusive it is on my daily plans, and above all, do not count down the number of dives I have left. It's coping by surrendering--I know that if I start to dwell on it, the time will feel really, really long every day. While the physical demands are nowhere near what I experienced with the chemo+radiation treatments, the psychological aspects of this are very similar. I just do what I need to do, and know that it will end at some point--and I can then get back to my normal weekday patterns.

More later when I know the date and extent of the oral surgery.

Mike