A Travelling Man - Part four of my tumorous saga

Now the time for the 24 radiations had come...

It was holidays for Michele when the treatments started, she is fortunate to work at a school as a secretary. She took me first thing in the morning to get “zapped” or radiated. We made the earliest appointment that we could, I wanted to get there before I had to go to work. What a shlep! It took about 45 minutes to get there, provided traffic was light (I hate traffic jams, thus I work in the countryside at about half the salary I could earn if I went to Sandton, but spending 4 hours in traffic each day; two there and two back, would drive me insane.) It is almost amusing to see all these fancy cars creeping along, really, is it worth it? How many days does it work out to on an annual basis where one is trapped in a car? (I know you could avoid traffic by leaving at some insanely early hour and come home after the traffic peak has passed in the evening; either way you are a victim, spending too much time away from home)

Anyway, back to my narrative. So we leave home nice and early at about quarter to six in the morning to be there in time for the 7:30 appointment. We would usually arrive about 45 minutes early but at least we did avoid the traffic jams. Michele is a careful driver so I just day dreamed as we travelled along in the crisp cool autumn air of the Transvaal (now called Gauteng).

(waiting for clinic to open)

The clinic would open in time for us to have a cup of rooibos tea in their lovely lounge. Michele would make it for me, as my hands were too clumsy to do such fancy stuff. (I had already had a disaster when trying to make us a cup of tea). We would chat to other people who were also there for radiation treatment. Hearing their stories made me realise that my situation was not nearly as bad when compared to some of my fellow patients. Quiet courage as they faced their various bleak futures, older folks usually, you could see their affection for each other, companionships of many years, being threatened by a common enemy.

The Machine!

A smiling young radiographer would come and invite me to join her. Michele would assist me down the passage to the room with the machine. She would leave and return to the reception lounge. The room was freezing; I still wonder why? Probably to keep the machinery’s temperature down. My future appointments were planned and saved on their computer. I then went and lay down on the narrow bed and the radiographer considerately placed a small blanket over my back. I assumed the normal face-down position and the green helmet was clicked into place with much battling from the two ladies. Even though the pressure was strongly pushing my face down, I knew that the position of the “T-shaped foam covered metal plate” was correct, so I was quite comfortable. As this was my first treatment, various measurements were taken and recorded for future visits. They chatted merrily away with me about my family etc, as they prepared the machine and aligned the lazer beams.

I was told that there would be two parts to my treatment; first, the vertical where the machine would be directly above me and then horizontally for the second dose. It was time! All staff left the room and closed the heavy door. The bed whined as it rose about six foot in the air. The radiation machine moved quietly into position. I waited with heightened senses… Then the whine as the beam started, my eyes closed. I concentrated on my eyelids because I was told that some patients could see light spots. I thought I saw some lighter images but I couldn’t be certain (later I knew that I was seeing something when the machine started radiating). I counted to sixty as I had been told that the vertical beam was timed for one minute. The big machine stopped and quietly changed position. It started whining again. This time it should be half the time. It stopped and I felt my bed lowering itself. The green helmet was unclipped. Cold air was sensed by my cheeks as I raised myself and carefully got off the bed. Was that it? Only one and a half minutes? Seemed crazy, travelling for about one and a half hours to get radiation treatment for a couple of minutes. Staff filled in my appointment booklet and I carefully walked back to the front where Michele was surprised to see me so soon. Hmm, was that it? I couldn’t get past this question. Then off to work! On the way Michele stopped for a small breakfast at a “Wimpy restaurant”, this helped me to feel a bit better.

When schooling resumed for Michele, the appointments were changed to early afternoon. On the first afternoon appointment, Michele stopped on the way to fetch me when she saw a lot of cosmos flowers on the side of the road; she took photos with the two younger girls who with her; these flowers are very special to us as when we were on our honeymoon we took lots of photos when posing in these beautiful flowers. Seize the moment! Enjoy everything that life has to offer, it can all be so temporary.

Michele would dutifully fetch me at about midday and the same old routine happened as described above, except quicker. Nothing seemed to change. I was feeling quite guilty about not feeling sick, was I a fraud? Our fortnightly visits to the Oncologist, same question from me, same answer from him, “no! you can’t drive”. I was feeling just fine in the beginning. I was taking 12 strong cortisone tablets daily, four pills in three doses. I had heard that these pills can bloat a person up. I was quite obsessed about it, kept asking people if my face was fatter, but nothing could be seen for the first couple of weeks. But it was happening, and other things were starting to happen too. My face did start getting rounder, my cheeks were getting swollen and my teeth were cutting into my cheeks. I started to get ulcers in my mouth and especially on my tongue. My taste sensations were going all wrong, I couldn’t bear any salt on my food (that’s saying something as I usually like a bit of food with my salt). The dentist smoothed off the rough edges of my teeth but my cheeks were continuing to expand.

A couple of interesting things…

Olivedale Hospital had dozens of stray cats! We found out that the one female doctor had taken it upon herself to feed these beasts. She also took them to the vet to be fixed (neutered/castrated). All the little bowls with their cats patiently waiting… It created quite an image that won’t be forgotten.

Another very interesting thing to me, was when I arrived for a treatment the one day, I saw a beautiful Ferrari, blood red, parked in the one doctors parking. When we came back two days later, there was a yellow Ferrari in the same parking! You cannot imagine my astonishment when on the next visit, I saw a black Ferrari in the same parking!! I rushed inside to quiz the receptionists. Yes, these cars were all owned by the same doctor! But we were told that there was also a “flagship” BMW and a huge Mercedes. AMAZING! IMPRESSIVE! Illustrates just how valued a good neurosurgeon is in the upper class, Northern suburbs of Johannesburg. I believe he is also a very good businessman.

Another nice thing that happened was that a group of men from my church just arrived at my house and spent the morning tidying up my garden. They also installed some steel bookshelves in the garage where I could pack some of the university books I had used for my studies. I am not a handyman, so it was greatly appreciated, I could just not bear throw those books away, we had spent sooo much time together.

(my beloved varsity books packed away)

Of course there was always my stupid moment, I have those quite regularly. On our way to one radiation appointment, the fuel seemed a bit low to Michele. “Should we fill up?” “No” I responded, "there is plenty petrol". There wasn’t. The car came to a halt on a busy road. I was stressed, I was going to be late and all due to my own stupidity. I tried to flag some cars down, but without success. Who eventually stopped to help me? The much maligned black taxi
driver. I was dropped off at a garage. Found a willing helper and got some fuel. Black driver in a bakkie helped me get back and even assisted us in putting fuel into the car. I gave him R40 as a thank you for some coke and hot chips. Very few “whities” help people on the side of the road anymore. Too much fear. Poor old South Africa. I mention this specifically to show that even so, there is still a great deal of good will from some folks.

It came to the end of my radiation treatments at the end of April and... WHAM! I became as weak as a kitten. I could not walk without being assisted for every step that I took. Without exaggeration, almost overnight I had lost all my strength. I could not sit in a bath without Michele’s assistance, I definitely couldn't stand up to get out the bath. I battled to get up the one small step between our lounge and the rest of the house. Even now when I look back, I still shake my head, utterly unbelievable.

I was not in despair because I knew that my faith and the faith of my family and friends would carry me through. My focus was on the next MRI that would be in July 2015. Would the treatments reduce the tumour? If not, nothing could really be done, the radiation treatment was over, only the cortisone pills could be taken. The MRI would reveal all.

Time will tell, patience is the watchword!