One Down – Thirty-four to Go!

December 22, 2010 / Dennis A. Gray / 1 Comment

Well, it’s started; the radiation regimen that is.

Today I went down for the first in a series of 35 radiation treatments and, as advertised, it was a very simple and, at this point anyway, painless process. Well, not entirely painless. The bed they have you lie down on is pretty hard but that’s because a softer surface would allow too much movement and when they are trying to aim a beam of radiation (high energy x-rays I believe) as accurately as possible-movement results in more serious consequences than just a blurry picture.

The drive down was actually rather nice and not just because of the sunny weather. The Canadian Cancer Society volunteer, Dave (not his real name) is a retired gentleman who has been doing this sort of thing for 8 years. Three times a week (occasionally four if he feels up to it) he drives people with one cancer or another to a variety of medical appointments in Southern Ontario. So far the furthest he has gone is London in one direction and Mississauga in the other. He refuses to go to Toronto; the traffic there is more than he can handle. He got started when he mentioned to a friend that he found retirement extremely boring and needed something to do. His friend was already a volunteer and suggested Dave join him. As I mentioned, that was eight years ago. The friend can no longer drive, but Dave is still going strong.

The depth of Dave’s experience showed best when we hit downtown Hamilton. Rather than taking the expressway up, for lack of a better term, the back side of the mountain, Dave sped along one back street after another, winding his way through a maze of tree-lined, one way streets miraculously avoiding heavy traffic and arrived at the Juravinski Cancer Centre in a mere 40 minutes. This was the best time in which I have ever made the trip and it does go to show that if you do something often enough you get very good at it.

At the Centre things went very smoothly. After a brief wait a charming woman named Kristy led me to a small comfortable room and made sure, first of all, that I was actually Dennis Gray. When I was there for my orientation they took my picture; she had a copy of it with her and took the time to compare it to me. Since five days growth of beard hadn’t changed me enough to make me unrecognizable she moved on to the next step.

She made sure I fully understood what was about to happen, what the side effects of the treatments would be, the recommended ways to deal with them, and what I was going to do with each return trip. All questions were answered in a pleasant, unhurried manner and repeated in the same manner when needed. It was a very comfortable experience. (See last few Paragraphs of previous post.)

Then after she showed me around a little I changed into a traditional hospital gown (only needed to strip from the waist up which was nice). Then there followed but a brief wait until it was time for me to go in to Machine 10B for my treatment. I had arrived a little early, thanks to Dave so I had time to get in a little reading. Love my Sony eReader.

When the time came Kristy escorted me to Machine 10b and introduced me to the other two treatment technologists. Since I didn’t see much of them (my glasses were off by this point) I can’t seem to remember their names; at least that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it. But they were all very nice and made me as comfortable as they could on the aforementioned hard bed designed more to keep me immobile than comfortable. Two quick low-energy x-rays to make sure I was lined up right and then it began.

From the patient’s point of view nothing could be simpler, or more uneventful. For the next 20 minutes I laid flat on my back, staring straight up at the lights on the ceiling while servo-motors rotated the linear accelerator around me and made slight positional adjustments to the bed I was lying on until I was properly positioned for each of the 9 individual firings. Each firing lasts 20 seconds and is noticeable only by means of a very low volume buzz coming from the direction of the large circular head of the machine.

When the procedure was over (painless this time as I mentioned) I changed back into my shirt and jacket and rejoined Dave in the main lobby. After a quick stop at Tim’s for a double-double we were on our way back to Guelph.

I thanked Dave for his efforts on my behalf when I got home around 5:30, but somehow it hardly seemed adequate. I’ve been thinking about him and his ilk, volunteering the way they do. He picked me up at work, drove me down, waited for me for over an hour, drove me back to the work shop-because in my slight anxiety I forgot my keys, and then drove me home. In all about a three hour slice out of his day. And this he has done 3 three times a week for the last eight years. They say Guelph is the volunteer capital of Canada. People like Dave are the reason why. Thanks again Dave.

Speaking of driving; a number of you out there have expressed a willingness, dare I say even a desire, to drive me down for one of my appointments. Well, though it looks like the Cancer Society may have things well in hand, I too would greatly enjoy a chance to spend some time driving with you and getting to know you a little better in the process. With that end in mind the link below will take you to an online version of my schedule of appointments.

Follow the link and let me know which one (1) appointment for which you positively know you are available to drive me down and drive me home. Keep in mind that each Wednesday they will be giving me an update of my schedule and when they do it’s possible some changes may take place. With new patients coming in all the time occasionally some juggling must take place, so please check back once a week or so.

https://spreadsheets.google.com/ccc?key=0ApI5vq3YTQfNdFgtSVZaZmV3MTZnckoxMC12eVNvdnc&hl=en&authkey=CO73uqYB

The Prayer Shawl knitted for me by the ladies of Trinity United Church in Guelph

Well, that’s it for this time around. Oh! Except to say thanks once again to my good friend and theatre pal Beth Freeth, her mother, and the folks at Trinity United Church in Guelph, who knitted and prayed over the lovely prayer shawl in the picture at left. They do this for people who are brought to their attention. They knit the shawls and then pray over them so that the folks who receive them will have a continuing reminder of the warmth of God’s love and the prayers that are going up on their behalf. It’s a marvelous gesture and I will treasure it always.

Gratitude as well to all of you who are praying for me and offering help in other tangible ways. (Great pot roast Margaret!) I love you all and think of you often.

Till next time.

Shalom.

The Man in the Plastic Mask – Our Story Continues

December 9, 2010 / Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment

Well, as I reported last time this was the day we were to spend down in Hamilton getting things ready for my radiation treatments. And for a few moments there, we wondered if we’d even make it.

On Monday Roberta called the Cancer Society to arrange for a volunteer driver to take us down for my three appointments today. The lady at the Society’s office told us that something would be arranged and that the volunteer driver would call my cell phone with the details sometime Wednesday night to make the arrangements for Thursday. Well, by 9 pm last night the driver still hadn’t called and since we were starting to get concerned Roberta started phoning around looking for a ‘plan B’. Unfortunately, she wasn’t too clear on the fact that the first option had appeared to have fallen through, and a lot of folks thought we had simply left asking far too late. Once that little detail was cleared up and folks realized that it was a last minute ‘plan B’ we were looking for, response became more favourable. Sorry Folks!

Anyway, a back-up plan was found; a lawyer friend of ours was willing to let us borrow one of their cars so that Roberta and I could drive down ourselves. Since no actual treatment was going to take place this time (once the treatments start I can’t drive home afterward – must have a driver) driving ourselves was an option.

About 15 minutes after we had gotten off the phone with our friends, the Cancer Society driver finally called. Turns out she had called before (the house number-not my cell phone) but because of confidentiality constraints was unable to leave a message on the machine. Apparently, and this came as a surprise to Roberta and I, a great many cancer patients never tell their families about the disease. They go through weeks and weeks of treatments without ever telling anyone they have cancer; not their co-workers, not their children, not even their spouses. For this reason, the Cancer Society volunteers are not allowed to leave a phone message in case they accidently blow their client’s cover. And since, for some reason, the office had not given the coordinator my cell phone number, we had no idea they had been trying to contact us.

Anyway, we got things sorted out with the volunteer driver and had just finished calling our lawyer friend back to let them know everything was on track when the phone rang again. This time it’s the coordinator of the volunteer drivers for the Cancer Society. While we were on the phone calling our friends (for the second time) he was telling our driver that her schedule for the next day was going to be disrupted because another volunteer was suddenly unavailable. He was calling us because we had happened to mention to the driver that we had a ‘plan B’ in place and he was calling to see if we could still use our back-up plan because he needed our driver to go to Toronto instead of Hamilton.

So, back on the phone to the lawyer-friend and this morning he picked us up at the house; we dropped him off at the office and then Roberta and I were on the road to Hamilton with an extra 20 minutes to spare. God Bless ‘em, I don’t ever want to hear any of you bad-mouthing lawyers again! Lol

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, going pretty much as planned except for one interesting little quirk at the surgeon’s office. We were just checking in with the surgeon’s secretary when he stepped into her office and asked us “Why are you here? I was not expecting to see you until after your radiation treatments were finished.” Turns out the resident at the hospital who told us to make an appointment with the good doctor for two weeks after the surgery was just following standard protocol and Dr. Gupta didn’t actually want to see us at all; he was expecting the Juravinski Centre to handle all the follow-up until after the radiation therapy was complete.

Oh well, no harm done. We did have a nice little chat with him and one of his residents and were happy to have him confirm once again that the 16mm tumour was fully contained in the tonsil and was of the P16 variety of the HP (Human Papillomavirus) type of cancer, a type which responds very well to the radiation treatments and is highly curable. Given the track record of this treatment with this type of cancer no chemo-therapy and no additional surgery should be needed once the radiation regimen is complete. Yay!

The rest of the day went smoothly; nice visit with the rad-techs at the Juravinski as they made the mould by pressing this warm net of plastic over my face (see pic –Sorry, that’s not me, it’s a file pic from web-site. Mine looks just like it though.)

Man in the Plastic mask - not me, file pic from web site

A quick lunch at Tim’s up the street and then back to the clinic for a CT-scan that will be used to help plan my regimen of treatments and be used to aim one of the 11 Varian Linear Accelerators that will be used to administer the radiation treatments.

Well, that’s about it I guess except that I would like to make one observation.

Both Roberta and I have spent a lot of time on the phone and talking to various help care types in both Guelph and Hamilton since this whole thing started almost a year ago, and we have both noticed the same thing. Dealing with the various components of Hamilton Health Sciences has been an amazing experience. The difference between there and here in Guelph is almost like night and day.

Now I want o make it clear that I’m not talking about the people here! I am sure that the people here in Guelph are every bit as dedicated and caring as the folks in Hamilton are; rather I’m talking about the system each are asked to work under. In Guelph we have found it very much a bureaucratic, institutional system. Lots of answering machines, few call backs, overworked staff, and few volunteers resulting in a process that is designed to treat as many people as possible but with comparatively little human interaction.

The Hamilton Health Sciences setup, from our experience anyway, seems to be much better coordinated in a customer-service orientation. We call down there and talk to people within only a few steps through the computer phone system. Everyone we work with seems to be relaxed and un-hurried, their first priority appearing to be making sure we understand everything and we’re still at least marginally within our comfort zone before going on to the next step.

And the volunteers absolutely blew us away. From folks at the information desks guiding you from one part of the hospital maze to another, to the lovely woman going from waiting room to waiting room handing out coffee, tea and cookies (she even got Roberta some hot water she could use to revive her Tim Horton’s green tea), all of them were absolutely amazing. I have never had so relaxing and calming an experience in a hospital or clinic before.

Since we had the same experience at both St. Joseph’s and the Juravinski centre, either they are both reading the same play-book or Hamilton Health Services has set up a wider policy of treating people like people. Whichever it is, from where I was sitting; in the waiting room, in the Mould Room, in the CT scanning room, someone is doing something right in Hamilton.

Like I said, I really don’t believe it’s the people. I think it’s the system they are each asked to work under, one that is institutionally designed to get the job done, and another that seems designed to put patient comfort first. And if, as one friend has suggested, the difference is because both St. Joseph’s and the Juravinski are publically funded, but privately run, then give me the privately run system every time.

Looking Forward to a Day in Hamilton

December 3, 2010 / Dennis A. Gray / Leave a comment

My JCC tote-bag. One souvenir I cold do without.

Okay. I’m back from the latest trip to the clinic in Hamilton and here’s what’s what.

They did in fact find the cancer – it was hiding in my right tonsil. Seems they got the sucker when they took my tonsil out. They were just going in for a look-see because they suspected it might be there, and lo and behold it was. However, since this was just your garden variety tonsillectomy (in case they were wrong I guess) they did not burn out as much of the surrounding area as they would have done if they knew for sure they were removing a cancerous-type tumor. And since the cyst proved little pieces of this thing are floating around in my lymphatic system, we must not leave anything to chance; so…

On with the radiation therapy! (Oh joy) I head back down Thursday next (Dec. 9th for those of you keeping notes) and engage in a day full of fun and excitement.

1^st up – a trip to the surgeon’s at 9:30 am. (or 9:50 am – can’t read my wife’s hand writing and neither can she. Will have to make a phone call on this one Monday) to make sure the charred flesh in my throat is healing nicely. That’s right, we want to be sure that my throat has fully recovered from the last atrocity inflicted upon it before we subject it to another one.

2^nd on the itinerary – The Man in the Plastic Mask – Act 1. At 11:15 a.m. our healthy, medically certified, and CLEAN-SHAVEN hero (me) arrives up at the Juravinski Cancer Centre to get a cast made of my face using a special plastic mold. This will be used to keep yours truly from twitching while these high-tech William Tells try to shoot a cancer laden apple off my head with an arrow made of radiation. If I flinch we might wind up with an outcome decidedly different from the opera. Ouch! (Yes, I’m mixing my theatrical allusions here but I really don’t care.)

3^rd in line – Lunch. Apparently it takes an hour and a half for the cast to harden; during which time I am invited to have lunch, take a walk, whatever, so long as I am back for the second act.

4^th item – The man in the Plastic Mask – Act 2. Once the cast has hardened we return to the clinic where a CAT-scan of me in the mask will be taken. This will in turn be used to plot out the course of my radiation therapy sessions and pin-point EXACTLY where those aforementioned radioactive arrows will intersect with my anatomy. Then the mask will be marked with the indelible ink targets, instead of my face.

That done I am set free to roam the earth until the actual radiation treatments begin about 2 weeks later (specifics to follow on Dec. 9^th) I am told all will proceed without incident for the first few weeks of treatment, after which the side effects will kick in and I’ll wish my mother had never given my father his first kiss (or some other event that would have precluded my birth so as to avoid all this unpleasantness).

Well, that’s the sum total of the information I have for now. This should be more than enough for the prayerful, the genuinely concerned, and the just plain curious until we write the next chapter. See you Dec 10^th.

The Meaning of Life

November 16, 2010July 4, 2012 / Dennis A. Gray / 5 Comments

As some of you know, I have recently been diagnosed with cancer. Yeah, it sucks. I’ve been trying to blog about it, but so far nothing I wrote ever seemed quite – right. So the subject remained untouched, till now.

Over the last few days I’ve been praying and thinking about the situation a lot and, not unsurprisingly, found myself pondering the ‘meaning of life’ – mine in particular, and what the future might hold, both during the radiation treatments and after. Just when I thought God wasn’t going to give me any insight right away, I was reminded of a story I haven’t read in years. I went looking for it to read again and after having don so found it fit the moment perfectly. Surprise, God was paying attention after all. (Just kidding – of course He was.)

It’s called The Three Questions; it’s a short story written by Leo Tolstoy and since it’s in the public domain now I present it to you in it’s entirety below. It’ll only take about 5 minutes or so to read, and says more about where I am right now than I ever could.

So, grab a cuppa joe (or tea for that matter) and take the time to read it. Regardless of your philosphical or religious leanings I think you’ll agree it’s hard to argue with Tolstoy’s answers.

Shalom

————

The Three Questions

By Leo Tolstoy

It once occurred to a certain king, that if he always knew the right time to begin everything; if he knew who were the right people to listen to, and whom to avoid; and, above all, if he always knew what was the most important thing to do, he would never fail in anything he might undertake.

And this thought having occurred to him, he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give a great reward to any one who would teach him what was the right time for every action, and who were the most necessary people, and how he might know what was the most important thing to do.

And learned men came to the King, but they all answered his questions differently.

In reply to the first question, some said that to know the right time for every action, one must draw up in advance, a table of days, months and years, and must live strictly according to it. Only thus, said they, could everything be done at its proper time. Others declared that it was impossible to decide beforehand the right time for every action; but that, not letting oneself be absorbed in idle pastimes, one should always attend to all that was going on, and then do what was most needful. Others, again, said that however attentive the King might be to what was going on, it was impossible for one man to decide correctly the right time for every action, but that he should have a Council of wise men, who would help him to fix the proper time for everything.

But then again others said there were some things which could not wait to be laid before a Council, but about which one had at once to decide whether to undertake them or not. But in order to decide that, one must know beforehand what was going to happen. It is only magicians who know that; and, therefore, in order to know the right time for every action, one must consult magicians.

Equally various were the answers to the second question. Some said, the people the King most needed were his councillors; others, the priests; others, the doctors; while some said the warriors were the most necessary.

To the third question, as to what was the most important occupation: some replied that the most important thing in the world was science. Others said it was skill in warfare; and others, again, that it was religious worship.

All the answers being different, the King agreed with none of them, and gave the reward to no one. But still wishing to find the right answers to his questions, he decided to consult a hermit, widely renowned for his wisdom.

The hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted, and he received none but common folk. So the King put on simple clothes, and before reaching the hermit’s cell dismounted from his horse, and, leaving his body-guard behind, went on alone.

When the King approached, the hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut. Seeing the King, he greeted him and went on digging. The hermit was frail and weak, and each time he stuck his spade into the ground and turned a little earth, he breathed heavily.

The King went up to him and said: “I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask you to answer three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Who are the people I most need, and to whom should I, therefore, pay more attention than to the rest? And, what affairs are the most important, and need my first attention?”

The hermit listened to the King, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hand and recommenced digging.

“You are tired,” said the King, “let me take the spade and work awhile for you.”

“Thanks!” said the hermit, and, giving the spade to the King, he sat down on the ground.

When he had dug two beds, the King stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer, but rose, stretched out his hand for the spade, and said: “Now rest awhile-and let me work a bit.”

But the King did not give him the spade, and continued to dig. One hour passed, and another. The sun began to sink behind the trees, and the King at last stuck the spade into the ground, and said: “I came to you, wise man, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me none, tell me so, and I will return home.”

“Here comes some one running,” said the hermit, “let us see who it is.”

The King turned round, and saw a bearded man come running out of the wood. The man held his hands pressed against his stomach, and blood was flowing from under them. When he reached the King, he fell fainting on the ground moaning feebly. The King and the hermit unfastened the man’s clothing. There was a large wound in his stomach. The King washed it as best he could, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and with a towel the hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing, and the King again and again removed the bandage soaked with warm blood, and washed and rebandaged the wound.

When at last the blood ceased flowing, the man revived and asked for something to drink. The King brought fresh water and gave it to him. Meanwhile the sun had set, and it had become cool. So the King, with the hermit’s help, carried the wounded man into the hut and laid him on the bed. Lying on the bed the man closed his eyes and was quiet; but the King was so tired with his walk and with the work he had done, that he crouched down on the threshold, and also fell asleep–so soundly that he slept all through the short summer night. When he awoke in the morning, it was long before he could remember where he was, or who was the strange bearded man lying on the bed and gazing intently at him with shining eyes.

“Forgive me!” said the bearded man in a weak voice, when he saw that the King was awake and was looking at him.

“I do not know you, and have nothing to forgive you for,” said the King.

“You do not know me, but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you, because you executed his brother and seized his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, and they recognized me, and wounded me. I escaped from them, but should have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and you have saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish it, I will serve you as your most faithful slave, and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!”

The King was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily, and to have gained him for a friend, and he not only forgave him, but said he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and promised to restore his property.

Having taken leave of the wounded man, the King went out into the porch and looked around for the hermit. Before going away he wished once more to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was outside, on his knees, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before.

The King approached him, and said: “For the last time, I pray you to answer my questions, wise man.”

“You have already been answered!” said the hermit, still crouching on his thin legs, and looking up at the King, who stood before him.

“How answered? What do you mean?” asked the King.

“Do you not see,” replied the hermit. “If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday, and had not dug those beds for me, but had gone your way, that man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards when that man ran to us, the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most important business.

Remember then: there is only one time that is important– Now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary man is he with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with any one else: and the most important affair is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life!”