Licking the Wounds

According to the doctors and nurses at Lancaster General radiation/oncology I am setting new records - most Gamma Knife treatments endured by one person. A dubious record to be sure. There was some debate yesterday whether this was my fifth or sixth Gamma Knife.

Whew.

The Gamma Knife has been around for about 10-years or so. But unless you've had personal experience with it you probably don't know that much about it. Basically it's a high-dose of radiation directed to an exact location. It's brain surgery without an incision. It has certainly become the treatment of choice for brain tumors under 2-cm in size.

The treatment is really not that bad, with the exception of one small aspect of it - having the metal frame screwed to your skull in four places to ensure exact positioning while the radiation is delivered.

I'm still not quite getting used to that. I don't think anyone would.

After a nurse starts you on some anxiety and pain drugs, two doctors and another nurse join the party and to a dry fit of the frame on my head. When they're happy with planned positioning they start sticking me with these needles that create numbness. Soon they're screwing the frame into place against my skull before giving me a little warning that they're going to tighten it all up.

I'm not going to lie to you. It's no fun.

As soon as the frame is secure on my skull I'm wheeled off to MRI where I'm given a double dose of dye and a 10-minute scan. The doctors and engineers use this scan to plan my radiation treatment. When they're ready I'm into the Gamma Knife room, laying on the table and having the frame on my head locked into other metal bars for positioning and stability.

Yesterday I had three small tumors, all around two-millimeters, and each required about 15-minutes of radiation.

They never mess around in getting the frame unscrewed from my head, which is appreciated. They'll try to dry up the areas around my head that are bleeding from the screws, and I go home bandaged, bruised, bleeding, still very numb and sore.

Last night I could not feel the back of my head as I slept, which was probably a blessing. From past experience I know that more pain will appear today as the numbness from the drugs continues to subside.

Considering the recent talks I've had with my oncologist here in Lancaster, and the oncologist at Sloan-Kettering in New York, I asked my radiation/oncologist and my nuerosurgeon if I was getting to a point where I might be considered beyond treating.

Surprisingly they both quickly agreed that I was certainly still very treatable. Everything has been caught in a very small stage, the one doctor said, and everything has reacted very well to treatments so far. They were both very positive. I was happily surprised by this answer.

Today is a recovery day, even the shower will be interesting and somewhat painful. But I do have to make sure that I am strong and thoughtful by late-afternoon when I'll meet with my oncologist. I already have quite a laundry list of questions.