"It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times."

 "It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times." to quote Charles Dickens from his novel, "A tale of two cities".

This week, week six, has been the most challenging of the entire process.  I'm not going to lie, it has turned a corner into a level of pain that I was not prepared for.  The burning of the skin has turned into huge open sores that look like something from a horror movie.  I Googled burns and found that there is a big difference between heat burns, sun burns, chemical burns, and radiation burns.  Radiation burns destroy the skin.  There is no repairing that skin, it needs to be deburred to allow new skin to grow, otherwise, it tightens up and constricts the blood flow to that area.  It has been a rough few days.

The targeted areas are my left ear, left eye, and the base of skull tumor.  The radiation dosing has increased in these areas, and to put it bluntly, they really hurt like hell.  I'm sorry to unload on everyone, but if I can't be honest, I wouldn't be telling a true story.

This is the worst of times.

As for the best of times, my brother Jim drove from Poway, CA to Warrenville, IL to offer any support he could.  We don't get to see each other very often, and to have my big brother do something like this just humbles me.  I would have much rather he come up to Minocqua when I am at 100%, so that we could spend some time fishing, or hunting.

He has seen me in the worst of times.  I could have just as easily done this on my own, but having Jim here has put this into a new perspective.  He has been cooking things that we both can eat.  I probably would have just heated up a can of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup.

I might have written a blog that watered down what is going on.  I suppose being in charge of writing gives me control of the narrative - the story that I want to tell.  Having an accountability partner means that I have to tell the story as it is.

I don't want any one to worry for me.  I will be OK.  There will be months of treatment ahead, and months of therapy to get my nerves to do what they are supposed to do.  But I will be OK.

As of right now, my tongue and the roof of my mouth have huge radiation burn areas that make it uncomfortable to eat anything.  I want to eat, but it just hurts so bad that I can't swallow.  I have a Lidocaine solution that I can put in my mouth that numbs these areas for about five minutes.  If I eat fast, I can get some food down.  My weight is staying steady at 185 lbs.  Jennine, my dietitian, calls me several times a week to make sure that I am on track - eating enough to keep my immune system strong.  I'm trying, but it is tough.

When Kim, my nurse, gave me the orientation talk six weeks ago, she went over what was ahead of me.  She talked about the burns, and how to stay ahead of it.  She told me that I would get a sore throat, and that I would have trouble eating.  I heard everything she said, but blew it off thinking, "She says that to everyone, It won't happen to me."

I'd like to give the orientation talk, right now.  That way I can show them the burns on my head and neck.  Have them look in my mouth, with a flash light, at the sores that keep you from eating.  But, then again, I might scare them away from treatment.

Sometimes it's crazy to think that just six weeks ago, I was the newbee.  Now I am a veteran - one of the long timers.  

Thirty treatments are behind me with five more to go.  They have a planned maintenance scheduled on the cyclotron, so I get a four day weekend.  Next treatment is not until Tuesday.  My last treatment will be on Saturday May 1st.

Jim is going to stay around as long as I need.  I hope that this four days off will help heal my throat, and make me a little more comfortable.

Five more treatments to go.  I'm ready to cross the finish line.  I'm ready to go home.