Monday, February 8, 2010

One Down...

Treatment started Monday. Radiation bright and early at 7:45. For those of you that have seen me early in the morning, you know this is not my shining hour, but it seems inappropriate and risky to be rude to people working to cure you of cancer, so I muster as much courtesy as I can.

For the moment, radiation is easy. I just lay there while the techs line me up just so, and the machine and its ray of light does the rest. I can't see them as I'm face down on the table, but on occasion their 'adjustments' feel more like the three of them are just standing around and poking me. I might be less paranoid if I had pants on.

Following radiation, I went to chemo. After a brief visit with my oncologist, he walked me up to the 3rd floor to begin my first round of chemo infusion. My oncology nurse promptly introduced herself as a 7-yr survivor of rectal cancer - a good omen I think, and certainly a reminder that cure rates are high and life goes on.

So, after several hours of tests, port prep and instruction, I left hooked up to a pump about the size of a walkman, full of the 5-FU chemo. I get to wear this 24x7 for the next week, with a refill scheduled for next Monday. The pump comes with some heavy warnings; don't get anything wet, keep a spare battery handy, check your 'dose given' reading periodically to make sure it is working, and the most concerning - should the tube be damaged and start to leak, double bag it and seal it, as the drug can cause a chemical burn. I asked what the odds are of damage and was told that the most frequent issue is cats chewing through the tubes...I'm willing to bet that while Mr. Jingles is gnawing away, the Jerry Springer show is on in the background.

Despite all of the poking, the needles, the waiver forms outlining possible side effects, what I felt most yesterday was relief. From this point on, the tumor will only get smaller and weaker, destroyed cell by cell, until it ceases to exist and I am cancer free.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Locks of Love

In April of 2007, a colleague at Avnet, Chuck, was diagnosed with a particularly rare cancer. At the time, I had two other friends, Greg and Dave, in cancer treatment as well. Only weeks away from Van's due date, the contrast of our life changing events weighed heavy on me.

In a show of solidarity, several of Chuck's pals shaved their heads with him as he began to undergo an intense regimen of biochemotherapy - an even more poisonous version than your run of the mill chemotherapy. Bald not being my best look and my hair being one of my better assets, I went the other way - I started growing it out with the intent of donating.

It has taken me 22 months to grow the minimum 10 inch ponytail, and on Friday I finally made my donation. During that time, some friends have won and others lost their battles, while still others continue to fight or have been diagnosed - I dedicate my donation to all of them.