27 Jan 2017
I want to update this blog even though I made a short post elsewhere.
My latest nasopharyngeal endoscope was all clear and my surgeon was very happy and not a little amazed. I asked him why and he did say that I had a highly aggressive cancer and that the therapy was hard on me. I made the comment that I didn't think the therapy was that hard -(and then I read my blog; Mmmm)- the brain plays tricks.
I asked why he and the team had been pushing surgery, a laryngectomy and tracheal reconstruction, he replied that most people do not complete the radiochemotherapy due to co-morbidities. Seemingly less than 30% of patients get through 2 cycles and six weeks, I'm in the 10% who managed 3 cycles and 9 weeks.
I went for my routine dental check today. As the radiotherapy went through the blood supply to my teeth it is expected I could have ongoing damage. So far so good, a recommendation about a mouth wash was about all.
I was getting into the lift (elevator in some countries?) at the Adelaide Dental School and a very frail man joined me accompanied by one of the reception staff. He was going to the special care clinic as well but it was his first visit and he was obviously nervous.
He checked in before me and it was obvious that he was confused why he was present here "Why am I here?" 'For a check up before radiotherapy'.
I checked in and sat with my usual game of Sudoko to while away time.
"Excuse me Miss, do you know what is going to happen to me?"
He had moved to sit by me.
So I got the life story
He is 78 alone, his wife has gone and the kids are, well, they are gone bush or feral or something. He fell off a ladder the other week changing a light globe. The X-Ray obviously showed something and he has no idea what it means but he is going to radiotherapy to cure it. He has no idea what radiotherapy is, what it means, what it does.
His loneliness and fear was palpable.
What do you do ?
Think: Not my problem and keep playing Sudoko?
Listen and be polite (not sure how).
I realised I can't do that. I wish I could.
All the appointments were running late as the day after Australia Day was a Friday so lots of workers took a sickie.
So we talked.
I didn't tell him that he had Buckley's Chance of surviving radiotherapy.
I didn't ask why his children had forsaken him.
I didn't ask what tumour or disease he had - he wouldn't know.
I heard a lot about Ethel. I heard a lot about happy times that were disjointed and confused. I listened to an old man talking out his life. I did not feel sad, I was so happy I could be there and listen.
Today was a good day.
He was called in before me.
I wish him well but I doubt that he will get through cycle 1.
I think I'm beginning to understand what my medics meant about me.
Cindy
