I completed my 40th and final hyperbaric oxygen treatment this past Monday--and none too soon. By the numbers, it took me 12 weeks to get in the 40 dives, with missed days for travel and a head cold. It took about 120 hours from my M-F schedule over those three months.Even with the intrusion on my regular schedule, this series of treatments looked a whole lot easier than they were--all I had to do was get to the hospital around 7 am, hang out in the pressurized tube for two hours and breathe in pure oxygen while watching CNN and Sports Center. The first 20 or so sessions were fairly easy--I got into a routine and just didn't think about much, which made the time go by fast. But, the second 20, and especially the last 10 sessions felt like they were getting a minute or two longer every day, and the two side effects of fatigue and blurred vision really got to me. By around the 30th session, I was in a full-blown struggle, just as I had been two+ years ago with the combined chemo and radiation treatments.
While these treatments were nowhere as difficult physically as those two years ago, they did turn out to be as difficult psychologically. It took me a while to figure out why that was, but I think I have it. Two reasons. Two years ago I was fortunate enough to be able to take a leave from work, to devote 100% of my energy into getting through those treatments, with plenty of recovery time at the end. This time I had to manage the treatments along with a full-time work schedule and other daily-life events, and eventually those 120 hours, fatique, and blurry vision took a toll.
But even more than that, I had started to think I was free and clear from cancer and all of the baggage that came with it two years ago. Not true. While I am cancer-free, I am not free of the lingering and latent effects of the toxic treatments needed to get cancer out of my body. I had forgotten that I have two battles to fight for the rest of my life--one is to keep the Prairie Dogs from invading my body again; the other is against things like osteoradionecrosis that are sure to happen from time to time. And, when they do happen, I'll need to make--and better accept--the necessary adjustments to my life as a cancer survivor.
I will never let my guard down again, and I'll do better to cope with the next cancer-related challenge I face.
Mike
