Professionally, I am accustomed to using the shorthand term RoRx for radiation treatment, so that's what I will use in this posting. Of course, in the days when I used "RoRx" I was the doctor and now I am the patient. Very very different roles.
I started my treatment on November 30, the first of 25 scheduled. The third day, of my therapy experience in RoRxland was memorable. Again, I was impressed by the professionalism and competence of the physician and radiation therapist community with whom I came in contact. This was not childs' play and I was treated as an informed adult - after the staff had done its work to inform me of what was going to happen and what I could reasonably expect.
In the treatment room there are two major features, the Varian Linac (linear accelerator) and the treatment table. I had been fitted for an immobilizing treatment mask several days earlier and that mask noisily clipped to the table on which I was lying on my back, locking me in place. The difficult chore was obeying the instruction to not attempt to help the staff who were meticulous in moving me into the exactly right position. Finally, when I was lined up to their satisfaction, the Linac was turned on with buzzing and flashing lights. The table wiggled and jiggled as it positioned me to receive the radiation in precisely measured doses.
A few minutes into the RoRx treatment, lights began to flash and a loud penetrating horn signalled a fire drill. You may be able to imagine my thoughts as I considered the possibility of a fire, or natural disaster, in the midst of an RoRx session, with me firmly affixed to the table(sort of like a pinned butterfly in a collection) The drill must have ended successfully because I received reassuring advice from the technicians, no fire fighters came rushing in to rescue me, and I have no visible indications of any untoward damage. It was "just a fire drill."
Fifteen minutes after the Linac started, I was finished. No immediate pain or discomfort. No impediment to walking out of the room or - later, driving my car. The problems with treatment will come after a number of doses and I left with prescriptions and medication to deal with the complications of RoRx at the time when intervention will be needed. In the meantime I will see a nutritionist in several days to work out our anticipated response to difficulty in taking nourishment.
Treatment is no picnic, but there is real comfort in my belief that the people who run the asylum are competent doctors and therapists and not the patients pictured in a different type of medical facility, like the one featured in "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's nest" - but that is another story!
I started my treatment on November 30, the first of 25 scheduled. The third day, of my therapy experience in RoRxland was memorable. Again, I was impressed by the professionalism and competence of the physician and radiation therapist community with whom I came in contact. This was not childs' play and I was treated as an informed adult - after the staff had done its work to inform me of what was going to happen and what I could reasonably expect.
In the treatment room there are two major features, the Varian Linac (linear accelerator) and the treatment table. I had been fitted for an immobilizing treatment mask several days earlier and that mask noisily clipped to the table on which I was lying on my back, locking me in place. The difficult chore was obeying the instruction to not attempt to help the staff who were meticulous in moving me into the exactly right position. Finally, when I was lined up to their satisfaction, the Linac was turned on with buzzing and flashing lights. The table wiggled and jiggled as it positioned me to receive the radiation in precisely measured doses.
A few minutes into the RoRx treatment, lights began to flash and a loud penetrating horn signalled a fire drill. You may be able to imagine my thoughts as I considered the possibility of a fire, or natural disaster, in the midst of an RoRx session, with me firmly affixed to the table(sort of like a pinned butterfly in a collection) The drill must have ended successfully because I received reassuring advice from the technicians, no fire fighters came rushing in to rescue me, and I have no visible indications of any untoward damage. It was "just a fire drill."
Fifteen minutes after the Linac started, I was finished. No immediate pain or discomfort. No impediment to walking out of the room or - later, driving my car. The problems with treatment will come after a number of doses and I left with prescriptions and medication to deal with the complications of RoRx at the time when intervention will be needed. In the meantime I will see a nutritionist in several days to work out our anticipated response to difficulty in taking nourishment.
Treatment is no picnic, but there is real comfort in my belief that the people who run the asylum are competent doctors and therapists and not the patients pictured in a different type of medical facility, like the one featured in "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's nest" - but that is another story!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment