Week9

Tuesday - Woke up hungry for "REAL" food. Tried eating a variety of dishes, but it's obvious that as much as my brain might want food, my mouth isn't ready to deal with it. Taste buds are still worthless,too. Managed the usual 2-1/2 mile dog walk with "only" 3 stops.

Thursday - Let's try that real food business again. Mouth and throat don't seem to rebel are much are before. They are still really sensitive to chile pepper heat (or even black pepper for that matter). Had a very small bowl of homemade Brunswick stew and could actually taste vegetables!! Tried a few Campbell's soup varieties and was pretty disappointed. Chicken noodle was disgusting. Minestrone was OK. I keep staring at that big can of menudo in the pantry. For some reason I am really craving tripe tacos. I'm afraid, though, that even the slightest amount of chiles would really hurt. Good news, though. Taste buds are definitely coming back to life!!

Friday- Today I got to meet with both Monticelli (chemo) and McDermed (radiation). Monticelli was a funny as ever. Pulled my PIC so I no longer have the tube in my arm any more. No good answers on when chemo clears out of my system, of course. It's different for everyone. McDermed was pretty pleased with my progress. She found my left side lymph node pretty easily. I told her that at one point it had nearly disappeared, but was now obvious, if not overly large. She put me on a weekly schedule to monitor any changes in the node. Now were just in wait and see mode.

Still healing rather quickly. Overall, feeling a LOT better than a week ago. Able to swallow food again even if it doesn't taste like much. Relying on the PEG tube a lot less. Slowly regaining energy.

Week 8

Monday - Still hurting as bad as the weekend. Watched Barbara load up the truck and then we headed towards home and the final radiation rendezvous. Had the nurse take a few photos of me on the table. Here's my favorite.

I also have a good before and after comparison showing how much weight I lost.

Did the math quickly in my head and came up with just under 2 pounds lost per hour spent laying on this table. After the ordeal I was handed my mask and a "graduation" certificate. I wore both when I met Barbara in the waiting room.

Tuesday - Don't seem to be suffering any more than yesterday. But then again, I'm not suffering any less. Needed to make a few Happy Birthday phone calls today, but I still don't want to talk.

Wednesday - Seem to feel a bit better; willing to utter brief sentences. Swallowing has improved from F!-ing painful to merely painful. Got a call from the pharmacy that my prescription is ready. Long ago the clinic handed me a scrip for oxycodone "just in case". After all the pain on the weekend I called Walgreen's Monday morning. My pain relief is finally here. Took the maximum recommended adult dose and waited. About 30 minutes later the pain relief was no better than after a dose of ibuprofen, but then again, ibuprofen doesn't bend your brain like this either. I haven't even had a beer in over a month and a half, but now I have a pleasant, mild brain buzz going on.  Waited about 90 minutes longer (not the recommended 4 - 6 hours) and took a second dose. Still no significant pain relief compared to 2 ibuprofen, but I know I'm going to sleep really well tonight. Sweet Dreams to you, too.

Thursday - Managed a 2-1/2 mile dog walk with only one rest stop! Now that's progress. Learned that oxycodone is now only good for assuring a good night's sleep. It doesn't really dent the pain and Wednesday's mind bending episode is history that won't seem to repeat itself. Food is still tasteless.

Friday -The forecast today is for a high of about 60. Well, it is September, after all. Hit the wall early today and decided to lay down on the couch mid-morning just for a moment. Woke up an hour and a half later; moved to the other couch and took yet another nap. That was the theme for the day; just a succession of naps.

Saturday - So much for recovering from chemo fatigue. Today's "usual" walk with the dogs required 3 rest stops en route and a nap when I got home. Not as zonked as yesterday, but still pretty useless.When I woke up, the clouds had parted and we could see fresh snow on the Cascades. It won't last long, but it sure is pretty right now.

Sunday - Nothing much new to report. Mouth and throat pain are getting better daily. Actually got on the phone today and caught up with a few people. It was strange to hear my voice again. A week without really talking changes things. Voice seems to be deeper and has a pronounced rattle or raspy quality. I assume this will return to "normal? with use.

Week 7

Monday - Still stuck in the chemo fatigue.  Felt a bit better, but I can't get over how weak I am. Glad I only got the low dose of cisplatin and equally glad I never got a 7th dose.

Tuesday - Felt much better than previous 3 days. After radiation I walked upstairs to get my PICC dressing changed. So strange to be up there without having to sit in the big chair with an IV bag hanging next to me. After the dressing change the nurse measures my blood pressure and finds it surprisingly low (85/55). "Care to stay in the chair and take a bag of saline?" she asks.  Well... at lest it isn't cisplatin. One liter later I'm up to an acceptable 100/65 and can go home again.

Thursday- I've had it!! I unloaded on the radiation oncologist this afternoon. I've had enough of this crap!! Haven't necessarily felt bad forever, but I haven't felt good in over a month and a half. I'm tired of the pain; tired of not being able to taste food; tired of being tired!! She just chuckled and said "You've been the poster boy for good attitude this whole time and now you're losing it right at the end."  Good thing we're leaving for a Waldport beach weekend.

Friday - Next to the last radiation date! I have a  much improved attitude compared to yesterday which helps a bunch. We loaded up the truck with cool weather clothes and 3 dogs (Lexee, too) and headed to the coast for a long overdue change of scenery.

Saturday - Should have saved my Thursday rant for today. Radiation damage to tissue is cumulative, but it also seems to have a quantum aspect. It doesn't add up day by day; it's more like weekly jumps. The first 10 days were painless. Then the next morning suddenly I'm aware of a tenderness in throat and tongue. Another week or 2 later it becomes even more uncomfortable.   I mentioned at the start of week 5 that I had crossed over from discomfort to pain. This morning I graduated from 'Damn that's painful" to "F#*%, THAT REALLY HURTS!!!" Seriously, I don't want to talk and don't even think about swallowing. By this time I'm 100% tube feeding even to the point of injecting water to stay hydrated. It's easier to spit out saliva than try to swallow. I doubled my daily intake of ibuprofen and powered through. Of course, the pain killing "magic mouthwash"is in the fridge back in Powell Butte as is the "just in case" prescription for opiates. So much for enjoying the beach. Managed a short walk in the sand late in the afternoon. Other than that, I just curled up on the couch watching Food Network dreaming of when I might be able to eat again - or at least swallow.

Sunday - Pretty much a replay of Saturday. Except for one walk on the beach I was one with the couch and Food Network and refusing to talk or swallow. Really dreading the thought of yet another radiation session on Monday. Can it possibly be as bad as the Friday experience? God, I hope not.

Week 6

Monday- An early morning phone call informed me that the X-ray machine was acting up and I would be rescheduled for radiation. I didn't mind missing a day. Just that much closer to being done.

Tuesday - It's chemo day which means it's time for my weekly chat with the chemo oncologist. He asked "What's new?" I began rattling off all of my chemo related gripes until I got to "turning up the tinnitus in my left ear"and he said "That's it. No extra chemo for you. Your left ear just saved you." Grateful for the news, I endured my final chemo infusion with a smile on my face. You've probably already seen the photo. But here it is again.

Thursday - Met with the radiation oncologist and learned that I am expected to do a "make up" day for missing my Monday appointment. Damn!! Looks like my last radiation day will be Monday, August 31.

Friday - The weekend chemo fatigue began creeping up on me by late afternoon. Should be a really fun weekend.

Saturday & Sunday - What weekend? I think I slept it all away. Seriously...Sunday morning I got out of bed and moved to the couch. From there I made it to the recliner and then it was time to return to bed for a nap. That was the routine for the rest of the day as well. I didn't even make time to eat or drink for most of the day. It was a total waste. The big news on Saturday was that my neck suddenly decided to peel.

This was a real relief. It was really itching a LOT! Now it feels much better, no matter how strange it looks. By now,as I am writing this, it has completely peeled - at least on my left side.

But next week is the FINAL WEEK!!! (Except for that radiation date on the following Monday.) These last 2 weeks are really dragging. I remember thinking how quickly the first 5 passed and how fast the final 2 should zip by. NFW! The cumulative effects of chemo and radiation are finally really taking their toll. I'm constantly tired and in pain - not bad pain, but I never, ever, feel "good" anymore. It's getting really old and I'm ready to be done with this treatment plan so I can start healing.

Last Chemo Day

That's only 2 of the 4 bags I received every Tuesday. But it's half of the FINAL dose!!

Week 5

I don't know what happened, but suddenly, after my Monday morning radiation session, I crossed that boundary between discomfort and pain. My left tonsil really flared up and HURT! Fortunately, it settled down a bit by Wednesday evening and became much more tolerable. By week's end it was just more of the usual background pain. Nothing that ibuprofen can't control.

Good news on the dietitian front. I maintained my weight throughout the week. Finally discovered a few calorie dense foods that I can eat without much disgust. Can't say I enjoy them, but I can force them down. Barbara cooked a giant flan yesterday and I dug in. It looked and smelled great, and tasted slightly of eggs and caramelized sugar, but was otherwise tasteless for me. I could imagine how good this would have tasted just a few weeks ago and proceeded to shovel down a good sized bowl full. Grateful for the calories. I started making a mental list of all of the foods I'm going to eat first when I can taste again. After watching food shows on PBS and reading cooking magazines I'm afraid the list of "first" foods is too much to realize. I have at least a month's worth of dinners mapped out in my hungry head.

More good news. Talked with the chemo PA on Tuesday. She says that after weighing the pros and cons of a 7th dose of chemo toxins they are unlikely to give me the extra dose. I'm only one round away from being done with cisplatin and a week closer to getting my taste buds back!

Thursday meeting with the radiologist. My time to complain about the constant ringing in my left ear and the fact that my neck skin is beginning to feel like freshly tanned leather.

She assured me that the ear ringing was mainly a chemo induced change and is only temporary. As for the skin texture - it will improve, but will always be slightly scarred and tougher thanks to radiation. So, one side of my neck will have a 4 season tan forever.

Apparently, Monticelli (chemo) knows of what he speaks. He said week 4 or 5 would be when I finally really felt the full impact of the chemo. Friday was a slow day - low energy and lots of naps. Then came Saturday and Sunday. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I finally got a glimpse of the side effects of chemo. Low, low energy level, nausea (no puking, fortunately) and a smattering of other symptoms. Still got out with the neighbors and dogs but really wish they would put benches on the trail about every 1/4 mile. Had a big case of the don't-give-a-#*%!s especially about food. Will be interesting to see on Monday how much weigh I lost this week

How about a few more photos to end this post?

First - hair loss. Chemo didn't kill my hair; it just "thinned" it. Here's what comes out every time I comb my hair.

Actually, this is down considerably from about 2 weeks ago. And most of this is not chemo loss as much as it is radiation burning hair off the back of my neck.

And finally, want to see why I don't eat much food?

Notice the lesion on the left tonsil where most of the radiation is focused. It looks a lot like that further down my throat. Now, if you haven't lost your appetite, go eat some food for me. And don't forget to use plenty of sriracha sauce, too.

Week 4

A pretty uneventful week all-in-all.  Met with my chemo oncologist on Thursday for some good news and bad news. Good news - He declared that on a scale of 1 - 10 that I am at a 9.5. Bad news - I'm doing so well he may consider giving me a 7th dose of chemo.

The dietitian caught up with me in the infusion room and read me her riot act because she's concerned that I'm losing too much weight. I'm down 10 pounds so far.  Even though I'm constantly hungry, I haven't found many foods that taste good enough to eat. And those high calorie supplements they give me have a nasty soy flavor that I can't stand.

Thursday is radiation doctor meeting day. When I answered the usual question - "How are you feeling?" with "Pretty good, considering." She replied "You wouldn't say that if you could see the back of your throat." Otherwise, she said I was doing great.

Still shedding hair at a pretty good rate. The pony tail is intact, but thinning.

Different weekend this time. Friday was a slow day. Saturday, my usual nap away day, was surprisingly energetic. Sunday we went to the art fair at Sun River and I was in slow mode. Spent most of the afternoon laying in the grass listening to the music. Not a bad way to while away a lazy day, though.

Four weeks down and only 3 more to go!

Week 3

 

Thank god I'm not lactose intolerant. I'm living on a diet of chocolate milk, yogurt and ice cream. Seriously, that's about all I can handle. Everything else either hurts too much or tastes like nothing. Spent some time with the dietitian at the Cancer Center looking for suggestions on how to expand my eating choices. She had lots of info for people with chemo-induced taste changes. Add more spice. Marinate meats in citrus juice & etc. Unfortunately, none of these ideas are appropriate for those of us with throats aggravated by radiation burns. Last night while I ate my yogurt and slurped more chocolate milk, Barbara dined on a Caesar salad. Damn, it smelled great - anchovies, garlic, Parmesan and lemon!!! I reached over, grabbed a piece of romaine, popped it in my mouth and immediately regretted it. Searing pain from lemon juice and raw garlic sent me back to the comfort of my beloved chocolate milk.

As for the constant sore throat that started late in week 2. It hurts just as bad now, but since it's a constant irritant I kind of accept it as part of the "new normal". Meanwhile, my gums are getting really tender and my soft palate is really inflamed. My morning coffee (thankfully, coffee somehow still tastes good) is now imbibed at ambient temperature.

On Tuesday (chemo day) Jill the dietitian brought me a bag full of different nutritional drinks to help fortify and diversify my diet. The fortification idea is good. I need more calories than I'm ingesting. As for diversity - the only thing that tasted good was chocolate. Oh well, yet another source of chocolate milk. The ginger snap ice cream I've been eating is still tasting good. But I have to spit out the pieces of ginger snaps because they are too spicy. Here's a look at what a trip to the grocery store yields now.

The only thing missing is a gallon of chocolate milk. Prune juice is about my only source of dietary fiber. I tried making a smoothie with banana and chocolate milk (of course) last night and was surprised to learn that bananas burn my throat, too.  So much for that idea.

Thursday I started a new radiation schedule. From now on I get zapped at 8:30 am instead of 3:30 pm. Totally different crowd in the waiting area at this time of day. This is apparently a popular time for guys with prostate cancer. They joke around and basically act like guys. All of them have bright futures once they endure getting their crotches zapped for a few weeks. This is very different from the afternoon group with their more serious cancer concerns.

Thursday is also the day for my weekly meeting with my radiation oncologist. Last week she ended our conversation with the following homily. "From now on, how well the treatment goes depends largely on how well you tolerate pain." I'm now 1/3 through with the radiation - 14 treatments down and 28 more to go.  I told her that I was probably in more pain this week than last, but because last week's pain was new and this week's was just the "new normal' that I probably felt better now than then. She let me know that my blood work looks good and I seem to be doing fine. I asked for a better explanation of "fine". She replied "From the way your mouth and throat look, I would expect you to complain a lot more. You'll get through this fine." Here's a photo of my mouth if you're interested.

 

Saturday is the low point of my chemo week.Seems like the poison catches up with me and drains me of energy for a day. This morning Barbara and I took off for an early walk with the dogs to beat the heat. After hiking only about 3/4 mile I was ready to turn back. Barbara and the dogs kept going and I plodded slowly back to the car, resting twice along the way. By the time I reached the car the sky appeared to be shimmering with blue, purple and silver highlights. Juniper trees radiated blue, green and silver sparks. My head was spinning and cold sweat was pouring over me. Then, I remembered a warning from one of my many cancer care workers. Chemo can seriously depress blood pressure and require suspending or altering ingestion of other meds for controlling blood pressure. Sure enough, my BP measured a whopping 80/60 when I got home. After a 2 hour nap it had rebounded to a more reasonable 105/75 and I felt a lot better.

Sunday's dog walk was a lot more fun than yesterday's. I skipped the BP meds and we met Kevin, Jacque, Harley and Olive for a 3+ mile hike in the BLM lands. That's more like it. Jacque brought me some cardamom ice cream hoping it would break the no-taste barrier. I'm not sure I tasted much spice, but the cardamom aroma was so strong it added up to a really pleasant experience. Add this one the the must-eat-more list.

Cancer Quotes

Every once in a while I hear a memorable quote from friends or folks I meet at the cancer center.
Here are 2 of my recent favorites.

"Cancer isn't a death sentence. It's just a word - a word that scares the shit out of most people. But not me. For me it's a fighting word."

"If you live long enough you eventually have to deal with something like this. Some folks aren't lucky enough to live this long. You obviously are. Consider yourself lucky."

Week by Week Updates - Weeks 1 & 2

It's a bit late to start this. But, better late than never. I thought a short summary at the end of every treatment week might be worthwhile. I'm almost at the end of week 3 now. So I need to play catch up.

Week 1
Totally uneventful. Chemo went over without a hitch. The entire procedure includes 3 different drugs to help deal with possible side effects, especially nausea. Then I get a half liter of saline with magnesium and potassium to help protect my kidneys from the ravages of the the cisplatin, which is followed by another half liter of the saline Mg+ K+ solution. Total time for the complete infusion is about 4.5 hours. Then I hoof it down to radiation for my 20+ minutes tied to the carbon fiber table.

They sent me home with a couple of different anti-emetics and told me "don't wait til you feel sick to take them. Just do it on this schedule and you should be fine." I did as I was told and had no ill effects all week.

Week 2
Same routine as week 1 with similar results.  Only took one anti-emetic the morning after chemo and didn't suffer at all from nausea.  Still no effects from radiation early in the week. But then came Thursday. Suddenly, tap water tasted slightly brackish. Not bad... just "off".  Later that day I was at a neighbor's home drinking beer and snacking on cheese and crackers.  The beer tasted wrong and the cheese and crackers were pretty flavorless.

For Friday morning breakfast I had grits with onions and hot Italian sausage.WOW!! That sausage was really hot! My mouth burned a lot more than it had when I ate the other links in that package. And as the day progressed, I noticed that many other foods irritated my mouth and throat.  By mid- afternoon it really hurt to swallow anything.  This triggered my first funk. It's not even the end of week 2 and it already hurts this badly?!? I've got 5 more weeks of this shit to endure! I allowed myself to wallow in a shallow puddle of self pity for a while.

Saturday morning after 8 solid hours of sleep I felt pretty good. I got up; fixed myself a nice, big (if bland) breakfast; checked my email while drinking a cup of coffee and then took a half hour nap. Afterwards, I puttered around the house for a while and then took a full hour nap. Apparently, the promise of chemo lethargy has now been fulfilled. Meanwhile, most food tastes like nothing. Hard to explain, but it really has no flavor at all. My nose still works great. Everything smells normal. But nothing at all tastes right.  Few things taste bad, but absolutely nothing tastes really good. Unfortunately, beer is one of the few things that taste really nasty. I haven't had one since Thursday afternoon and have absolutely no desire to try another one any time soon. The only thing I crave is (get this) chocolate milk. I downed a half gallon this afternoon and would have had more if there was more to have. In fact, that's about all I consumed all afternoon and evening.

Sunday was a one nap day filled with more chocolate milk. My throat was still sore, but I was kind of getting used to it. So much for week 2.... on to week 3.

The Infusion Chronicles

I finally remembered to take a few photos to share from my one LONG day at the cancer center. Leave home about 8:30. Arrive at Cancer Center by 9:00. First step is a visit with the phlebotomist to give a blood sample. Nothing unusual there except that I don't get stuck with a needle because I have my PICC tube. Next up is a visit with my chemo oncologist. I REALLY like this guy. When he asked me today about any changes I'd noticed, I pointed at my lymph node and mentioned that it appeared to be swelling.  His reply was "It's pissed off and fighting back because you're trying to kill it with radiation." Didn't know that "pissed off" was an accepted medical term, but I do now.

Next, it's upstairs to the infusion room. I wish I had a good photo of it for you, but, I wasn't sure how all the other infusees would react to someone taking photos. It's a large, high-ceiling, 2nd-story room with two walls of glass facing south and west that offer pretty good views of Pilot Butte and the Cascades. Very bright; even welcoming. There is a balcony off to the south side with lots of shade. Since the temperature was perfect today, I chose to spend most of my time outside. Here's a shot of me and Pilot Butte...

Without the IV tree it's a pretty normal picture, verdad?

Chemo is a 5 hour affair. It starts with a dose of steroids, followed by a long action anti-emetic, then a shorter duration anti-emetic. Next is a full hour of saline with additional magnesium and potassium to flush my kidneys. Then comes the actual hour of chemo (85mg of cisplatin) and finally another hour of saline with magnesium and potassium.  Somewhere in the middle of all this is lunch. Today I had chicken and veggie soup.

It isn't as boring as it looks. With a bit of added salt and pepper it's actually pretty tasty.  Lots of more filling items are available, but I'm not much of a lunch eater. This was perfect.

And no chem day is complete without a visit to radiation. I finally remembered to ask the techs to take a few photos for me. You've seen the shroud photo before. Now you can see me actually penned to the table and ready for radiation.

Although the the shroud does a great job of securing me to the table, the instrument does a quick scan to make sure the table alignment is correct; makes adjustments as necessary and then starts the real work. 

This gizmo moves around me shooting radiation from a number of angles. All the while I get to listen to the music of my choice. Today was a David Byrne day. 

Finally, I retire to the restroom to do a concentrated fluoride treatment on my teeth. And that's where I encounter this sign.

After hours of infusion and a few cans of fruit juice I'm glad I can and pee anytime I want. It's 4:15 and I can go home now. Guess I'm one of the lucky ones.

Let the Fun Begin!

Monday, June 15

Today is dentist day. I have to get a clean bill of dental health before the radiation starts. Teeth and gums suffer collateral damage from radiation, so any dental issues need to be resolved first. Also, I get to have dental trays (essentially a mouth guard) custom made for me. During treatment I will do daily fluoride applications to keep my teeth strong. The dentist is great. I'm keeping him as my new guy. Had a full set of X-rays and a thorough dental exam. Got a clean bill of oral health. On too my next medical adventure.

Tuesday, June 16

First, a little background. Because I'll be having radiation treatment on my neck there is a chance that my throat will become so swollen and sore that I'll have a hard time eating enough food. As a precaution I'm having a PEG (feeding) tube inserted in my stomach. Barbara and I went to the hospital yesterday for this procedure. 

Whenever I put on the hospital gown and get hooked up to the monitors one of two things happens. Either my blood pressure goes sky high or my pulse starts racing. This was a pulse racing day. For safety's sake they ran and EKG and noticed the tell tale signal of atrial fibrillation. Oh joy! Yet another genetic blessing.  

Hold off on that surgery and call in cardiology to address the problem. By the time cardiology checked me out and decided on a recommended treatment I had "self-converted". In other words, my pulse rate dropped down to an acceptable level all on its own. I got an echo-cardiogram and learned that my heart was not damaged or abnormal. I now have yet another prescription med to take twice a day.

Enough excitement for one day. I'm going home.

Wednesday, June 17

Today I got a PICC line inserted. This is a catheter that runs from a vein in my right arm all the way to my aorta. This will be used for administering the chemo and any other meds I might need. Also it's a good port for drawing blood samples when required. The good news is that I only get stuck once. The not so bad news is that I get to live with this appendage for the next few months. 

Tomorrow it's back to the dentist to pick up my fluoride trays and get my teeth cleaned.

My New Appliances

June 27, 2015

The weather has been stinking hot lately. So, what better way to spend my time this past week than a series of visits to doctor offices?

Tuesday found us chatting with the cardiologist. He said I was good to go for all my future treatments.

Wednesday I met with a Speech Pathologist. Her job this day was to get baseline data on how well I chew/swallow and how flexible/extensible my jaw and tongue are. I got good scores on the chew and swallow parts. She was a bit astounded at how wide I could open my mouth and was again surprised when I could easily touch my tongue to my nose. There is a real risk of throat and mouth muscles and other tissues being scarred by radiation. This may limit their future range of movement. She taught me a few exercises to stretch the affected muscles, but said I had so much range of motion to start with that I should be fine no matter what.

Thursday we went in for a second, and ultimately successful, placement of  the PEG tube.

This is a "better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it" appliance to use in case trouble swallowing late in the treatment regime creates a situation where I may not ingest enough calories  to maintain my perfect weight.

Here's what it looks like from the inside.

They inflated my guts to poke around with the scope, inspect my GI health and insert the tube. The insertion went smoothly. Afterwards I was really gassy and farted a LOT.  Some of the air sneaks into the peritoneum so I had a big bubble pressing against my diaphragm. That was pretty uncomfortable until the gases were finally reabsorbed and things felt "normal" again.  I left the hospital feeling pretty good. Then the drugs started wearing off. Damn!. It felt like somebody had been punching me in the guts the whole time I was unconscious.  Had to lie down and nap for a few hours when I got home. Felt much better afterwards. But, the incision area is still tender. I do not recommend this accessory for folks like me who prefer to sleep on their stomach.

Friday was a big day that included three appointments. First was a post-op check of the PEG. That went really well.

Second was my CT Simulation. In anticipation of radiation treatment, they made a mask of my head, neck and shoulders by stretching a warm  thermo-plastic mesh over me and tacking it to the CT scan table. Once the mask cooled to its rigid final form I was firmly locked to the table. They attached a few reference tags to the mask to aid in alignment and then marked me with a tiny tattoo. It's so tiny that you probably couldn't find it if you went looking for it. But, nevertheless, Bridget is now the only tattoo-free member of this side of the family. Unfortunately, I didn't think to have them take photos of me during the process. But, here's what it looked like afterwards.

 

Once that was done they loaded me into the CT scan tunnel to make a digital 3D image of head and neck.

This will be used to calculate the strength and direction of the radiation to most effectively penetrate the good tissue and target the cancerous areas. Calculation and consultations should take about 2 weeks. The the radiation/chemo treatment combo can then commence.

Finally, we met with the folks at Home Care IV to get trained on the care and feeding of my PEG. It's simple. Inject 60 ml of water each day to flush it until the time I might need it. Then come back and they'll supply me with the dietary supplements I  might want.

Monday we return to the chemo oncologist. He had suggested a pre-dose of chemo if this whole process was going to take too long. Hopefully, we have made enough progress that he'll hold off until the anticipated July 13 start date for the complete treatment.