Archive for the ‘Radiation Therapy’ Category

CA Road Trip II: Huntington Beach + Med Update

Friday, August 7th, 2009

I’m looking out at the surf and sand of Huntington Beach, not more than 1000 feet away, as I write this. It was more than a stroke of luck that allowed Kasha and I to be here at the Shorebreak Hotel with such a magnificent view. I googled up a promo code to get a sizable discount off the room price when placing the reservation. When we arrived late this afternoon it appeared they’d given us the wrong room. There was no disability access (shower rails, seat, etc). We informed staff and they quickly remedied this by upgrading us to a disability-friendly room with a king bed and waterfront view.

We’re heading downstairs in just a few to take a stroll by the beach, then dinner at Wahoo’s (fish tacos, we love ‘em). The weather is ideal.  Breezy, in the high 60s. The sun is beginning to set. I’ve got to wrap this up!

Talked to Dr. Kukunoor, one of my oncologists, by cellphone 1/2 hour ago. He tells me yesterday’s MRI scan results came back and there’s yet another tumor along my spine that’s coming close to creating spinal cord compression. It’s located between my shoulder blades. There’s no imminent danger of paralysis, but all cases like this have to be taken seriously. He recommends that when I return to Phoenix on Monday I continue with radiation therapy, effectively postponing chemotherapy (yay!).

I feel good, and it’s a relief to know I can enjoy the weekend without worrying about chemo or some dire situation to return to Monday. Kasha and I are so grateful and glad to be here. Really looking forward to seeing family tomorrow. I brought along some family history research for them to browse through, too. Also, can’t wait to see my friend Dan on Sunday and his baby girl, Addy.

Good times, now out the door we go!

My Signs of Cancer

Sunday, July 26th, 2009

Photo of Morgan's head and torso indicating surgeries, treatments and signs of cancer.

First– don’t be alarmed by the picture. My eye sockets often appear hollowed out and gaunt (though there is a narcotic composure to my face I’m no longer comfortable with).  I actually feel pretty good lately, other than the pain in my waist and thigh that has been with me the past week. Luckily, not so much when I’m laying in my bed.

You can click on the photo to read about places on my upper body that are my new “signs of cancer.” War wounds and battle grounds. Each surgery, shaving, tattoo and simple cosmetic change has come to represent my struggle.

I normally don’t like showing off my scraggly, hairy chest. Heck, I don’t even like swimming in public with a shirt off. But I thought some of you might find the body mapping of my cancer to be an interesting thing, as I’ve come to think of it.

Radiation Therapy is current direction, all by itself

Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009

I am zonked. I have been staring at this blog screen for two hours, falling asleep in a sitting position as nurses and patient techs buzz around me, preparing me for another blood transfusion. (Ah, there it goes– blood delivery on its way).

I have simply been trying to write an update about my new radiation treatment. It began this morning. I was taken downstairs in a wheelchair and carted just a few blocks down the street to Associate in Radiation Oncology. Dr. Miller met with me again yesterday to say Yes, the decision to radiate had been made. My MRI scan showed that the tumor saddling my spine at T11 (Thoracic spinal nerve 11) had changed a bit and was now actually sitting on the nerve. No bueno.

The plan was now this: 8 radiation treatments, all of T11 would occur, each day except weekends. Dr. Miller said that chemotherapy could still run concurrently, but he recommended one of these drugs not be administered since it could counteract the effect.

WAIT. STOP THE MILL. It is Tuesday evening and there’s a new plan.

Dr. Kukunoor, my regular oncologist, came to my hospital room and told me we don’t even have to start chemotherapy yet. The fact that this round of treatment could be more painful and extreme than others was reason to think twice and take it slower. Why not just resume chemotherapy after radiation therapy ends?

I’m for it. Give me another week and a half to have better mental clarity. I’m fine not fast-tracking for the moment.

So, I began radiation therapy on Wednesday with this plan: 8 concurrent treatments  lasting just a few minutes each. The first session, today, took over an hour as they set up the alignment of my body and made markings, to make sure I am positioned exactly the same each blast. At tomorrow’s session they will tattoo the markings, I’m told, before my continued treatment, then I should be discharged from the hospital to complete the sessions on an outpatient basis. The last radiation session will be Friday, July 31st. I’ll then begin my second cycle of chemotherapy on Monday, August 3rd, inpatient here at John C. Lincoln.

Ready to start moving toward leaving!