I was 23 the first time I was “put under”. It’s a fun story to tell. I broke my wrist snowboarding (remember that one Big Shooter?). But that’s not the fun part. The fun part was when the orthopod walked in to my exam room. I was sitting on the exam table and my wrist x-ray was all lit up on the wall. He walked in and took a quick look at me to say good morning. And then he looked at my x-ray and yelled “Jesus!”. Now I never could find the good Lord in that x-ray. Maybe the bone splinters looked like a crown of thorns or something. But the very next day I found myself in the operating room getting an external fixator which ended my ski season and a very short lived snowboarding career.

The 2nd time I was under general anesthesia I was 43. I had developed an umbilical hernia. My innie had become an outie and we had to operate to make it an innie again. It was all rather uneventful. Nobody saw God that day. I followed my own favorite advice when you have surgery which is “if you see a bright light, don’t walk towards it.”

The 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th times I had surgery I was 47. I guess I was making up for lost time. I’m pretty good at the routine now. The pre-op nurse doesn’t even need to tell me how to prep. I know that I don’t like the bear hugger to be turned on. And when you get on the OR table they don’t want you to sit on your gown so be sure your bare butt can feel the sheet. Alas, I’m already set to notch my 8th surgery and my first of my 48th trip around the sun. I’m thinking this is my last one for a while though. But then again that’s what I thought this past December when I had my 3rd surgery.

Surgery Number 8
The name isn’t quite as catchy as Mambo No. 5. Now hopefully you’ll have that little ditty in your head for awhile. Of course a little Lindsey is all I need. Especially since you aren’t allowed to drive after surgery. She’s not only my ride or die but also my ride home. But back to the surgery.

You might recall I had a remaining left axillary lymph node that was questionable on my first PET scan. And that that little son bitch ditched the questionable status and went full on suspicious for cancer in my 2nd PET scan. So that little lymph node and all his left axillary lymph node friends got to go. I saw the surgeon, Dr. Bilimoria, this past week. He’s going to “clear the field” as he put it. It’s not even a sports metaphor. He just means he’s going to take out all my lymph nodes in that area. And it will be the same drill as before. We think 1 lymph node is cancerous. If it is and it’s the only lymph node then we’ll do low dose radiation. If it turns out some of his friends are cancerous too though, then we gotta hit the left armpit a bit harder. Surgery is on April 13th. Which also happens to be Lindsey’s birthday. I sure do know how to woo her.

Radiation Simulation
I had my radiation simulation this past week as well. Which didn’t really mean what I thought it meant. I thought it was like a dry run. You know, simulate how I’ll be positioned, where I’ll be zapped, etc. Really I just got a CT. So a more accurate description would be “Pre radiation CT”. I wish I could say it was uneventful. I was well on my way to an easy appointment until we got to the “history of kidney disease” question. And due to a myriad of factors (previous chemo, radiation, etc.) I do in fact have kidney failure. Not the dialysis or lend me your kidney kind. But the kind where your creatinine is elevated and your GFR isn’t the best.

Now here is the thing. It’s very clear in my chart that I have elevated creatinine. It’s super clear because the values appear in red. Red means bad. It grabs your attention. Someone. Anyone could have looked at my chart before my pre radiation CT and gone “Well shit. We can’t give him contrast because his creatinine is elevated.” But no one did that. So the result was me waiting an hour while they figured out what to do. Ultimately they did the CT without contrast even though it was ordered with and without. But the scan came out clear enough without contrast. Which was good because the next step would have been to hydrate me with an IV.

Radiation For Realz

With the simulation over it’s time for the real thing. The original plan was to zap my armpit and my throat/neck at the same time. But now that I’m having surgery on my armpit, that radiation is delayed. So for now I’ll just be getting radiation for the polymorphous adenocarcinoma that was removed in February. In order to zap the right area consistently, they make a mask of your face. Each day I’ll lay on the table and then they’ll put this custom fitted mask over my head to hold me in place. Thankfully it has air holes. Not sure I could hold my breath for that long. My first day of radiation is April 1st at 9am. I’ll also get my full schedule that day. Thirty days of radiation. Every weekday for 6 weeks. And at some point I’ll start radiation to my armpit which will also last 6 weeks. So for the foreseeable future you can just call me Radiation Rob. That will pretty much be what consumes my time.