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Yeah, the reason stated was because of the antioxidant contained in blueberries. [shrug] I like blueberries, so this is not going to be a hardship.

Right now, I have a couple of tasks. First, I want to get a copy of my MRI images (which I will naturally post some here). Second, I need to check with HR and see what the requirements are for short-term disability ( ) Just in case.

Just out of curiosity, what does it cost you (or your insurance company...) to obtain those pictures? I've always thought that those images were neat, and I always wanted copies of my own Xray images and never thought to ask.

I don't know about the MRI pictures, the but the PET scan pictures were free of charge. I got a FedEx mailer a couple days later with the CD inside.

I find it hard to believe ANYTHING in that industry comes at no charge. There had to be some kind of "Imaging Technician Records Duplicator" fee... or something like that.

No charge to me. I'm sure it's wrapped up in the price charged to the insurance company. For the multiple thousands of dollars that they're billing my insurance to get my skull examined, the least they can do is throw in a 15 cent CD-R.

Any news on your health Darkmange? Any luck with the STD? (Short Term Disability..... perverts....)

StefanVonS wrote:

:) I find it hard to believe ANYTHING in that industry comes at no charge. There had to be some kind of "Imaging Technician Records Duplicator" fee... or something like that.

When my wife had her MRI's last year she got the CD from both appointments with the images and the required software to view them for no charge.

Sorry for the lack of updates, guys. This weekend was pretty hectic socially.

This afternoon, I go in to get fitted for my radiation mask. I picked up my MRI CD late last week and had some up-close-and-personal photos taken of my eye. You can actually see the lymphoma in the pics.

I hope to scan those tonight and copy some of the MRI photos as well. Keep watching this space, I'll try to have 'em up by midnight.

Darkmage wrote:

This afternoon, I go in to get fitted for my radiation mask.

Radiation mask?

SNM wrote:

Darkmage wrote:

This afternoon, I go in to get fitted for my radiation mask.

Radiation mask?

Because the area that needs the radiation treatment is in his head, he needs a mask to protect the other parts of his melon from the radiation.

Actually, the mask is to hold my head in a consistent position from treatment to treatment. I had the mask and the precision CT scan this afternoon. Getting the mask fitted was weird. The CT scan was boring, like always. On the positive side, if I didn't get the mask, they would give me alignment tattoos in order to get the positioning correct. I consider myself lucky I get to have the mask. (incidentally, I get to keep the mask. Pictures of the mask will come after my next appointment on the 25th.)

You walk into the CT room and they have the giant plain donut there with the table in front of it. There is a hot water bath off to a side and this plastic-wrapped thingy that looks like a giant purple fly swatter without a handle. There is a white plastic horseshoe-shaped frame and the middle is all purple plastic mesh.

First step is to stretch you out on the table and they put a semi-solid and slightly wet pillow under your head. It molds to the back of your head and they kind of push it up against your noggin from the sides until it hardens. After that, they spend about ten minutes moving the table with the digital controls. They have a laser alignment system that projects some crosshairs onto your face (remember kids: Do not look into laser aperture with remaining eyeball!) which they use for a rough position. Then comes the fun.

They give you the obligatory "okay, don't move!" command, and then the two of 'em bring over the purple fly swatter from the 160^o water (!). The open end of the horseshoe goes over your neck, the white frame goes around your head and the purple stuff streeeeeetttttccchhes over your face... whereupon they bolt the plastic to the table you're laying on. It's actually not all that hot. It wasn't uncomfortable at all, mainly because I'm not claustrophobic.

So there you lay, stretched out on a hard plastic pneumatic table with a cooling purple flyswatter stretched over your face, and they wait for it to cool. You can, with a bit of effort, open your eyes and look out through the purple mesh. It's not entirely unlike being trapped in a whiffle ball, I suppose. I had this intense urge to grab a machete and start terrorizing teenage campers.

Anyhow, they wrap some cool towels around you and then remove the mask. Because of where my lymphoma is, they cut away a portion of the mask around where my eyeball is and then reattached the mask over my face (and again with the clamping the frame down to the table). Right about now, I'm spouting off nonsense just to pass the time. I personally think my best one-liner is when I said "Someday! Someday I will escape and the throne of France will be mine!".

[shrug] They got it. Or at least they were polite enough to laugh.

Now that I'm all nice and immobile, my radiologist shows up and places what he tells me is a sticky BB on my eye, which they will use for targeting. What he doesn't tell me (possibly because he didn't find me funny enough) is that the sticky part is very sticky and is hanging on to my eyelashes. The part where they pulled that off was not pleasant. It stung a bit. Not terrible, but sharp pains a millimeter away from my eyeball gives me pause. Once I'm all trussed up, they roll me into the CT scanner (finally) and take some high definition shots of my eyeball. Out I go, off comes the mask, and I bounce up from the table and ready to fight rush hour traffic.

I did schedule my future appointments! A week from Friday (the 25th) is the deadline for the radiologist and hospital staff to have a treatment plan finalized. The estimate is that each session will probably include three different angles. I actually start getting irradiated on the following Monday. Being a bit of a masochist, I asked them to schedule me at 0730 every day so I can get there early, get done and then go to work immediately afterwards. I'm such a dweeb.

Okay gerbils, I promised you pictures and pictures you shall have! Alas, the radiologist has the MRI CD and won't give it back until after the 25th. He did, however, print out an extra copy of the photos he took with the laproscope of my eyeball. So without further ado, allow me to introduce you to Lenny the Lymphoma.

Gerbils, this is Lenny:


Lenny, meet the Gerbils:


Lenny is that ugly pink ridge in the corner of my eye. He's about a centimeter long. He is also slowly growing into my sinus cavity and will eventually reach my brain, unless I do something about it. Not only that, but he's spreading out across the top and back of my eyeball, spreading like a hostile pink patch of ivy.

Just you wait, Lenny. I'm going to kill you.

Well, tomorrow is the big day! I start my radiation therapy at 0720 tomorrow morning. Friday they had me come in for final positioning and yet more x-rays. I don't think I'm going to get to see those, but I'm kind of x-ray'd out.

So, how cool is my Mom? She went over to CafePress and bought me 17 different cancer-related t-shirts. One for every day of therapy. I'm going to make the rad techs crack up.

In order to get the final position measurements, they have to get you into your final position which involves putting the radiation mask on and bolting your head to the table. I did not realize this, but even after they cool it down and take it off your head, it still shrinks a bit over the course of a couple weeks. It's not much shrinkage, but you can definitely tell when the thing is bolted into place. No joke, it is so tight that I can't open my left eyelid after they bolt it into place.

Anyhow, here's a shot of me doing my best Jason Vorhees impression!


And another shot from my best side. As you can see, they really bolt your skull down. This photo is pretty interesting, as you can see the lasers they use for alignment.


It really is like being trapped inside a whiffle ball.

I was thinking more along the lines of Hannibal Lecter.

You've had at least one treatment by now, how you holding up Darkmage?

He's recovering nicely on a diet of liver and chiante

paulWTAMU wrote:

He's recovering nicely on a diet of liver and chiante

It's actually not so bad. The worst part is having to get up at oh-my-god in the morning to make sure I make it to the hospital with the unpredictable DC traffic. The rad techs have it down to a science (um... duh!) and I'm in & out in very little time. This morning, I was behind schedule a bit (15 minutes) and they were ahead of schedule a bit (15 minutes) and I basically was able to sit down, say "hi" to the regulars, meet the new vic... er, patient who was starting today and then they called me in.

The first day, my radiologist was there to give final instructions. I get three layers of wet paper towel over my eye to slow the radiation down a bit and make sure it deposits itself where it needs to go. I keep my eyes closed from the time they bolt my head down to the time they unbolt it. I get two shots of radiation of varying length (first one was about ten seconds long each - this morning was either 55 seconds via mental count or 35 seconds via stopwatch. Time passes strangely when you're stuck inside a whiffle ball). Once the second dose is delivered, the rad techs come in, unbolt my skull and I hop up & out. I don't know how those guys are so chipper each morning. I'm about ready to sleep walk into a wall.

Here's the weird part: When they actually fire the machine up, I can definitely tell it's doing its thing. I can literally see the radiation! Because they're aiming at my eye socket, the scatter from the beam excites my optic nerve and I get a blue flash in my right eye. I asked the rad techs about it, thinking it might be an indicator light so people know not to walk in on the machine, but nope... it's all in my head.

The chatty rad tech told me this is the... oh, something-or-other effect. It's named after a physicist who discovered the phenomenon and has an unfortunate Germanic name. It's called Schnottsucker's Phenomenon or something equally tragic. According to the rad techs, I probably will not be showing any side effects until the end of week two or the beginning of week three. "On the other hand, you might rub your forehead one day and your entire eyebrow will come off in your hand." Gee, thanks. With my luck, I'll be in a meeting with the client.

After each session, I just walk out the door and go to work. I slather my eye up with aloe plant and the back of my head with an aloe-infused lotion from CVS as preventative maintenance. I have been told to not wait for the skin irritation to start before administering goop. I have also been told by the been-there-beat-that crowd to follow what the doc says without exception, so a-slathering I go. When I get home, my lovely and caring wife takes photos of my head so we can track any side effects (she also makes sure I goop up again, eat my blueberries, get a good night's sleep and figure out the questions to ask the next day. I married an angel)

Today's T-shirt said "Certified Lymphoma Butt-Kicker". The rad techs didn't notice (I think they were rushing in order to squeeze someone into the schedule) but one of the other cancer survivors in the office did. She thought it was a trip. Note to self: The second I think I'm suffering from this crap, I need to go talk to the other ones on my floor. At least I get to keep my breasts.

The geek in me has a few questions for you...
Is this gamma radiation? If so, do you know how it is produced and directed? If they are able to direct and focus the radiation, does that reduce the hair-loss side effect?
Is the phenomenon you describe similar to the one (for which I can not find a name) that an astronaut or commercial pilot might experience at high altitudes?

I don't think it's gamma radiation, but I'm not 100% sure. My understanding is that gamma radiation is very penetrative and they need a good portion of this stuff to stop in the target tissue. I know it's not proton excitation, but other than that... I'm at a loss. I'll definitely try to find out tomorrow though. Good question!

Yes, the hair loss effect is going to be minimal. The techs this morning told me that I'll probably lose the hair around my right ear and behind my left ear. In both cases, the affected area is about the size of a baseball. I saw a different radiologist this morning (he was filling in for my regular doc) and he is of the opinion that everything is going to grow back in about three months. Which is kind of a bummer, really. I was already planning on a tattoo to fill in the space.

As for the phenomenon of astronauts... I don't really know. It would help if I was familiar with the phenomenon. Can you post a link describing it?

My understanding is that while the amount of radiation that I'm getting is pretty low (I think the nurse said I'm getting 30.60 grays over the course of the entire treatment, spread over 17 days), only about 1.8 grays per day in two shots to the head.

Darkmage wrote:

Here's the weird part: When they actually fire the machine up, I can definitely tell it's doing its thing. I can literally see the radiation! Because they're aiming at my eye socket, the scatter from the beam excites my optic nerve and I get a blue flash in my right eye. I asked the rad techs about it, thinking it might be an indicator light so people know not to walk in on the machine, but nope... it's all in my head.

The chatty rad tech told me this is the... oh, something-or-other effect. It's named after a physicist who discovered the phenomenon and has an unfortunate Germanic name. It's called Schnottsucker's Phenomenon or something equally tragic.

Is it Cherenkov (which happens to be Russian and not Germanic) or Bremsstrahlung (which is Germanic but means "Braking Radiation" and was discovered by Tesla?
Either would fit with it being Beta radiation treatment, which is just high speed electrons.

Sounds like you are doing well though, keep it up!

Well, it sure sounds like the Cherenkov radiation, but the name doesn't sound like what the rad tech said... I'm just going to have to ask him again tomorrow morning. I'm going to have to write this down, I see. But that picture from the Wikipedia article is just about spot-on for a color match.

As for the Apollo astronauts... yeah, that sounds about right. It's definitely a consistent color, but flashes behind the eyes? Check.

Well, it's been a week of therapy and I saw my radiologist this morning. A quick exam and he reports that the lymphoma is visibly smaller than when we started this whole process. We had a couple questions for him of the my-friend-knew-this-guy-who-asked-about-this-side-effect variety. In all cases, the answer was "We're not zapping your neck, so don't worry about it."

So it's starting off to be a pretty good day. My t-shirt today reads "My cancer is rarer than your cancer. (neener neener)"

Good to hear you're responding to treatment! How much longer do you have of this treatment? Suffering any side effects as of yet? Did they expect such a rapid response to treatment?

I'm supposed to expect side effects (if any) to occur at the end of this week or the beginning of next week. 17 treatments in all and this morning was number... er, hold on... carry the two... divide by six... um... Treatment #8. So far, I haven't shown anything that I can definitely point to and say "Well, crap, they told me this would happen." The only thing I can think of is that my right eyebrow feels singed a bit. Of course, that could be because I'm smearing dead plant sap all over it (Aloe, cut fresh every morning!)

I got the impression that they were expecting some response to the treatment, but I'm apparently responding better than average. I am so cool with that.

Oh, and because someone asked - the device they're frying my tumor with is a linear accelerator made by Siemens. It appears to be one of their Primus linear accelerators. It's hard to tell. There doesn't appear to be a model designation anywhere and they all look kind of alike.

Darkmage wrote:

Oh, and because someone asked - the device they're frying my tumor with is a linear accelerator made by Siemens. It appears to be one of their Primus linear accelerators. It's hard to tell. There doesn't appear to be a model designation anywhere and they all look kind of alike.

After poking around on Siemens' site, the machine that's blasting you is capable of high- and mid-energy, dual photon capability, and 6 electron energies. Ok, so it's a beta accelerator as well as an x-ray machine.

Alright DarthMange... time for a check-in.

Darthmange, LOL I like it.

Kinda like Idastiffie and Masteregg.

Yeah, I guess I haven't been terribly chatty lately.

Things are going pretty well. I finish up my treatments next Tuesday, so I'm planning on making some edible treats for the staff this weekend. I'm also considering a thank-you card, along the lines of "Violets are blue, Roses are red. Thanks for zapping that thing in my head."

On a slight downside, the side effects have finally started. The skin under my right eye is a bit red, as if I just got a light sunburn there. My coworkers, in their traditional supportive & sensitive way, say that I look like I got in a fight. The eye itself is quite sensitive, so any sort of breeze or air movement makes my eye send signals to my brain that it's feeling something. It's similar to the effect of hanging your head out of the window of your car while you are on the highway and staring into the wind... but it happens at a walking pace. It's making the motorcycle commute really interesting, as any air that gets past my sunglasses is now very annoying. There's no pain, really. But it's annoying.

As a consequence, my eye is overproducing tears to compensate for the drying of the eyeball and the near-constant irritation of stray wind gusts. This drains into my sinuses, so my right nostril is... er, a "bit sniffly". I have some eyedrops that the optometrist recommended. Speaking of which... it's been years since I need to put drops in my eyes. Did you know that they sell them in single-serving packs? This is great! I can take a handful to work and leave a handful at home and not have to schlep a bottle back and forth.

Anyhow, there's no hair loss yet (knock on wood). This renders about half of the remaining t-shirts completely irrelevant (I just bought a t-shirt that says "Eyebrows are so last year.") but what can you do?