In
some ways it could be a survival merit badge – “Yippee! I got blasted and
survived.” At the same time, I’m sure some survivors look and it
and just get depressed as it reminds them about their tumor and everything that
went with it.
This
is a picture of me wearing my radiation mask moments before being zapped. I
thought you might enjoy initial reaction to being fitted for my mask (excerpted
from Chief Complaint: Brain Tumor):
“I
was scheduled for my radiation blast. I say blast, because The Good Doctor, in
consultation with the radiologist, decided that instead of five days of
radiation, I should have one blast of five days’ worth of radiation. As I
understood it, the five-in-one-blast had a better track record of preventing
reoccurring tumor growth.
As
soon as I heard this, I immediately thought of the original Uncle Fester from
the Adams Family TV show. If you haven’t seen it, Uncle Fester could turn on a
light bulb just by popping it into his mouth. Don’t think about it too much,
it’s a sight gag.
I
tried not to think about the radiation and then, on a fine summer morning,
Barbara hustled my lazy butt over to the hospital for my radiation mask
fitting.
In
order to make sure that only The Blob was radiated and not, for example, my
ability to play the trombone or killer beer pong, I needed to hold my head
very, very still during the treatment. Since radiologists stay up nights
worrying about things like sneezing during beaming, the remedy is to custom-build
a face mask that will keep your head in a locked down position and as still as
possible. So a week or so prior to my radiation blast, I went to the hospital
and had a warm, pliable white plastic mesh form molded to my face.
The
resulting face mask had six pre-drilled holes in it so that the technicians could,
literally, bolt me down to the table to keep me from moving, fidgeting or
picking my nose.
As
soon as I put the mask on, I thought I looked like Anthony Hopkins from the
movie, Silence of the Lambs. I wanted to wear the mask on Halloween because I
thought it would scare the snot out of kids who were trick or treating.
(My wife) Barbara, of course, said “you can’t
wear that; you’ll scare the snot out of little kids.” So I didn’t.”
And
if you have picture you want to share, send them to me c/o
John@chief-complaint.com.