A little about my radiation therapy

-

This week, I'm going for my second and final radiation treatments on my left hand. Ever curious and wanting to know, I've asked questions. Niko, one of my nice radiation therapists, as been answering them all. As you can see, I have to climb up on a metal table and lie down, then extend my arm above my head. That Elekta Versa HD can rotate all around a patient's body. It stays in one place for me.

That square apparatus is called an electron cone (these come in different numbered sizes; mine was 14x14). It holds the electron cut-out.

My personalized electron cut-out is lit up in green. That cut-out area is the shape of my palm that's being radiated. The metal blocks radiation beams from reaching the rest of my hand. 

I asked if I could keep mine. Niko laughed and said, no, that they're carcinogenic. They're also melted down and recycled to make new ones. He asked if I'd like to hold it and feel how heavy it is. Sure, I exclaimed. First I had to put on gloves.

Cut-outs at the Mays Cancer Center are made by therapists of cerrobend, an alloy of bismuth, lead, tin and cadmium. Here's a video that I found of how one is made. So interesting! 

I can't begin to explain the planning out and actual process of my radiation. For one thing, it involves a lot of math, such as source-to-surface distance (SSD). 

My therapy uses electrons, not photons. Per Oncolink, "Electrons release their energy close to the skin's surface and are often used to treat superficial tumors (tumors close to the surface of the skin), such as skin cancers, keloids, and some lymph nodes. The radiation does not go much past the skin to deeper healthy tissues. This often replaces orthovoltage because it can be combined in the same machine as a linear accelerator. Electron radiation can be used to treat the skin of the whole body or only certain spots." 

Photon beams shoot through the body. They "are the same type of beam used in x-ray machines, like those used to take chest x-rays. In radiation therapy, much higher energy photon beams are used."





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One day at a time

-
Image
I'm a journalist by profession and training. Since my high school days, it's been part of my nature to document, document, document. Whatever I learn and/or experience, I also want to share if it can help someone else. S o here we are. Me and Dup. That's what I've decided to name this new addition to my life. Dup's short for Dupuytren's disease. But you already know if you're reading this. If we ever meet up, don't be surprised if I show you my left hand. It's not because I want pity or even special attention. It's because I want to make you aware of this crazy disease. Not many know about it. I sure didn't. But turns out there's a lot of us out there. I've read different statistics, but roughly 8.2 percent of people around the world suffer from this debilitating but benign condition. It's no fun. And it's worse for some than for others. That's the thing — Dupuytren's affects everyone differently. So far, t...
Read more

Adapt and go on

-
Image
Loss. Everyone with Dupuytren's deals with it. For me, I can't clap any more. Hurts if I do. So I fake clap instead. And I'm not the only one. Someone told me that she does, too.  "Or I use my right hand to slap on my leg or a chair/table next to me," she posted. Someone can't open water bottles any more. I'm getting there. On Thanksgiving Day, I had to ask my son to open a can of corn with a can opener. Couldn't do it myself.  Someone can't high five his grandson any more. Because his grandson likes to high five as hard as he can.  Handshaking is also a challenge for some with the disease. Especially if the hand shaker squeezes too hard. So some fist bump instead of shaking hands.  So, yes, we're all learning to adapt to get on with life and co-exist with Dup.   
Read more

Blessed me

-
Image
That's me and James yesterday. And Dup. He's always with me now. You just can't see him. He was helping to take that photo. We were all at the Mays Cancer Center in San Antonio yesterday for my CT scan. I mean, our CT scan. At one point in the process of prepping, everyone gathered around me where I lay on a table.  There's Dr. John Yassa, Dr. Chul Ha and CT scan techs Nickie and Louis. That's when my emotions kicked in.  I'm so blessed to have these people taking care of me, I thought as a tear slid out of my eye and onto the bridge of my nose.  James leaned over me. "You ok?"  "I'm just so grateful for everyone helping me," I murmured. It's been a journey since I was first diagnosed with Dupuytren's disease. In September, I was discouraged when an orthopedic surgeon told me that the only option – because it's not curable – was surgery. He told me to come back in six months, and he'd check my hand again. In the meantime...
Read more