A Taste of Reality

Hello again, for the second time today. As promised, I have returned with an update following my appointment with the radiation oncologist...

It had been six days since I had last received any news or information pertaining to the little gremlins residing under my tongue. I had a general idea of the type of cancer cells that were discovered via the pathology report. I also knew that there were three treatment options for cancer: surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. Some people get away with needing only one of the option, while most end-up having a combination of two. Some of the less fortunate end up having all three-I pray I do not fall into this category.

Today is President's Day. Jess and I had the rare opportunity to share a day off without the kids. We had planned to have a lunch date before my medical appointment, but first I needed a haircut. We left the house at noon, heading into Tucson to start our daily adventure.

I needed to get a haircut, so we stopped at Sports Clips, hoping it would be quick. When we got there, there were two gentlemen getting their hair cut and one gentlemen in queue ahead of me. I also saw a third girl in the back, so I assumed the wait wouldn't be too long. Jess and I payed on our phones like two millennials being antisocial. The two gentlemen getting their hair cut left. Soon, a fourth gal arrived. There were now four hair stylist and no customers getting their haircut. Cool... I should be up in no time. NOPE! The girls started discussing the new computer check-in system... completely ignoring the fact that there were now four patrons waiting patiently. I thought about saying something, but I'm hesitant to anger a woman with a sharp pair of sheers.

I eventually got my hair cut, but it took way longer than I would have hoped. I left with a nice haircut, but the lengthy task left Jess and me with no time to eat. We headed straight for Banner UMC to attend my 1430 appointment with the radiation oncologist.

We found a parking spot on the roof of the hospital's four story parking garage. I'm pretty sure the entire garage was designed with compact cars in mind. Trying to fit my truck into one of those parking spots was like trying to fit Poohs fat hand into a honey pot. It is a good thing I had Jess with me because her eagle eyes are better at locating signs. She was able to determine where we needed go a lot quicker than I would have. In fact, I almost missed the big sign with arrows that read: RADIATION ONCOLOGY.

The radiation clinic is in the basement of the hospital. I guess this makes sense considering low levels of radiation can not penetrate concrete walls. As we walked into the clinic, the idea of having cancer hit me like a ton of bricks. The lobby was half full-mostly cancer patients that had already started their radiation and/or chemo treatments. My attention was immediately drawn towards a young boy that had lost all his hair from chemotherapy. Excuse my language, but $#!% just got real!

The receptionist was able to draw my attention away for a few minutes with a mound of paperwork. Jess helped me by feeding me all the information from my previous medical records. As I filled out the paperwork, I couldn't help but to listen in on the conversation going on behind me. It was the little boy and his mother talking to an elderly couple. The boy was seven years old. He had cancer in his throat that had traveled to multiple lymph nodes. His mom explained that he had been diagnosed with stage three oral cancer. The boy was so excited to show off his new shunt and port. I was enamored by the boy's bravery, yet scared that I may soon face the same destiny.

I asked Jessica if she had heard any of the conversation going on behind us. She hadn't. But she knew I had, and she knew it bothered me. Jess tried to keep me calm by rubbing my back. The reality of what cancer might lead to was becoming more and more apparent. As always, I tried not to jump to conclusions, but my mind doesn't always want to cooperate. 

I was eventually called into the back. As always, I asked if Jess could come, which is always answered with a "yes." The nurse took my vitals. We joked about a sign on the scale that blamed gravity for our weight. My blood pressure was slightly elevated, but we can assume this was due to the stress of the hospital visit. The nurse asked me the standard questions regarding my past health, as well as some new questions I had not been asked before. I was asked about my blood relatives past medical history: parents, siblings, grandparents, and children. I went on to inform the nurse that my dad had passed away of a brain tumor and that my grandmother (Nana) had survived cancer.

The nurse eventually left us, only to be quickly replaced by the doctor. It was so quick, they must have high-fived outside the door as they handed off my medical chart. The doctor was very nice. He was already informed that I had not yet seen the ENT surgeon there at Banner. This was a concern because most patients see their surgeon before radiation is introduced as an option. Before he went into providing any information about radiation treatment, he wanted to take a look at my tongue. Lets just say... he was not impressed. The doctor was almost certain I would NOT need radiation. In fact, he joked about this being the first and last time the two of us would see each other. My cancer is small. Luckily we caught it early. So early, that the oncologist is confident the ENT surgeon will be able to cut out the entire tumor with no need for any other intervention. Wow, what a relief! I was thrilled to hear from an oncologist that removing my cancer would most likely lead to nothing more than a routine surgery.

The doc text my ENT surgeon to ask her what tests and scans I would need. He put in an order for a PET scan and some blood work. The blood work was something I was able to complete immediately following my appointment, but I will have to wait for a call from the radiology clinic to schedule my PET scan. The doctor shook my hand and reassured me there was little chance that we would need to cross paths again. The PET scan should confirm his hypothesis.   

Jess and I left the hospital feeling pretty good about the information we had received. Although I am not yet in the clear, I do feel confident my interventions will be minimal. I am still worried about the quality of life following a tongue surgery, but I will know more regrading that on the 1st of March.

Please stay tuned while we wait for word on my next medical appointment. Meanwhile, please send your players and well wishes to that seven year old, courageous young man. I wish I would have asked for his name. If you are in the position do to so, please visit  https://www.stjude.org/ and donate a couple dollars. I do not wish this stress and disease on anyone, especially a child.