Finally, the last day of radiation treatment for my wife's plasmacytoma is today, and it's none too soon. It's only been 3-1/2 weeks, but it seems like an eternity. While the treatments themselves have not been painful, or otherwise difficult, the cumulative effects of the treatments are starting to take their toll. Edie is having difficulty swallowing, all wine tastes terrible, most foods the same, and she seems to be sleeping (or napping) more often.
Hopefully with the end of treatments these effects will wear off, and life can return to some sense of normalcy, as difficult as that may be. But, it doesn't completely end here. There are still more tests and potential treatments on the horizon.
Today, just before her last radiation treatment, there is the CT Myelogram, intended to help the othopedic oncologist better determine on how to proceed with the fracture of the T2 vertebrae. Hopefully it will heal on its own, as the orthopedic oncologist did not hold out much hope for any intervention type treatment, but we won't know for sure until after the test. (This is an approximate 4 hour procedure, after which you are not allowed to drive, due to the effects of the dye used. Fortunately there is golf course close by, where I can wait out the procedure.)
Then next week, there is a final visit with the radiation oncologist, a visit to the orthopedic oncologist to discuss the results of the CT Myelogram, and another visit with her regular oncologist, to discuss how she thinks we should proceed, and to run any additional tests which might be necessary.
Out of all this ordeal, there was one note thing I thought worthy of mentioning. For those of us who have been through this sort of experience it is quite apparent, but for those who have not been through such an ordeal, or have a relative or close friend experiencing a similar situation, it may not be so obvious.
Life threatening experiences, such as these seem to transcend all socioeconomic, racial, ethnic and religious barriers. When you're sick a certain camaraderie (a bond) developes among those in similar situations. I guess it is a way of coping with a desperate situation. Regardless of your status in life, you have something in common with the other person.
This bond can manifest itself in many ways.
It the case of my wife, it has manifested itself in a way I thought a unique. Over the years a tradition has developed among those who ride the shuttle from the Kaiser Bellflower facility to the Sunset facility (where the treatments are administered) to give a gift, on your last day, to the remaining patients on the bus. So far Edie has received gifts on at least 4 other occasions, and now it is her turn to reciprocate. The gifts are nothing of great expense or consequence, typically being candy or other similar goodies, but I thought the gesture was particularly telling.
Last night Edie spent about an hour packing all the gift bags.
Hopefully with the end of treatments these effects will wear off, and life can return to some sense of normalcy, as difficult as that may be. But, it doesn't completely end here. There are still more tests and potential treatments on the horizon.
Today, just before her last radiation treatment, there is the CT Myelogram, intended to help the othopedic oncologist better determine on how to proceed with the fracture of the T2 vertebrae. Hopefully it will heal on its own, as the orthopedic oncologist did not hold out much hope for any intervention type treatment, but we won't know for sure until after the test. (This is an approximate 4 hour procedure, after which you are not allowed to drive, due to the effects of the dye used. Fortunately there is golf course close by, where I can wait out the procedure.)
Then next week, there is a final visit with the radiation oncologist, a visit to the orthopedic oncologist to discuss the results of the CT Myelogram, and another visit with her regular oncologist, to discuss how she thinks we should proceed, and to run any additional tests which might be necessary.
Out of all this ordeal, there was one note thing I thought worthy of mentioning. For those of us who have been through this sort of experience it is quite apparent, but for those who have not been through such an ordeal, or have a relative or close friend experiencing a similar situation, it may not be so obvious.
Life threatening experiences, such as these seem to transcend all socioeconomic, racial, ethnic and religious barriers. When you're sick a certain camaraderie (a bond) developes among those in similar situations. I guess it is a way of coping with a desperate situation. Regardless of your status in life, you have something in common with the other person.
This bond can manifest itself in many ways.
It the case of my wife, it has manifested itself in a way I thought a unique. Over the years a tradition has developed among those who ride the shuttle from the Kaiser Bellflower facility to the Sunset facility (where the treatments are administered) to give a gift, on your last day, to the remaining patients on the bus. So far Edie has received gifts on at least 4 other occasions, and now it is her turn to reciprocate. The gifts are nothing of great expense or consequence, typically being candy or other similar goodies, but I thought the gesture was particularly telling.
Last night Edie spent about an hour packing all the gift bags.
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