The REAL First Session

Today was the real deal. My first radiation treatment for the squamous cell carcinoma on my right vocal cord -- throat cancer most likely caused by at least three decades of smoking. I quit on March 16, 2000 which is good because it would really be tough to quit while this is going on.

My advice to all smokers who read this: Quit now. This minute. If not for yourself then for those who love you. I am getting wonderful support from Sylvia and from my children and grandchildren but I really feel ashamed when I think about what my folly is putting them through.

The first session took about 45 minutes. There was some trouble adjusting the mask. The mask is plastic mesh that was molded to my face and head. It is fastened to the back board to keep my head immobile during the treatment. I am on my back. My shoulders have to be lowered so they will be out of range. So I have a platform under my feet with ropes around my wrists. When I push down with my legs it pulls my shoulders down out of the way.

The treatment itself is quick. I counted to 30 on one side and 40 on the other. But I am told they don't go by seconds but rather by doses of radiation.

I felt a little disoriented after the treatment but that went away in about 30 minutes. Cathy and Marty met us at the hospital, in a pouring rain, to take us to an Italian restaurant for dinner.

First Session

I had my first session in the Radiation Oncology department of St. Joseph's Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor Tuesday. But I didn't get zapped.

The first session was dedicated to putting me in the proper position, putting on the newly minted mask and bolting it down to the table, and taking scans, x-rays and other pictures. This was done so they will have a baseline reference if there are any physical changes during the treatment.

I met with the doctor after the session. He said he had prescribed 28 treatments. They are done five days a week, Monday through Friday. So that means the last one would be on Sept. 1.


We have settled into the vacation house after a weekend with Pastor Wayne Cochran. Wayne and his son, Pastor Chris Cochran, were in Michigan for a series of teachings at several churches affiliated with Voice for Jesus church in Miami. That is the church where Sylvia and I were pastors -- and members for 20 years. We met up with them at Pastor Wayne's invitation in Owosso. He was preaching at Pastor Rick Story's church in nearby Corunna. It was wonderful to see them again and the entire congregation at Pastor Rick's church prayed for me Sunday.

On the Road Again

That's us -- on the road again and back in Mill Spring. We will return to Ann Arbor on July 21. I had the "simulation" for the radiation therapy before we left Ann Arbor and they set the date for my first treatment: Tuesday July 25. They made a mask I will wear at each session to align my throat at the same spot every time.

We will spend these days getting ready to be away from the lovely lake and the beautiful mountains. Our plan is to drive to Ann Arbor and stay in the home being loaned us by a wonderful couple from St. Luke's church in Ann Arbor http://www.stlukeaa.org/.

Sylvia and I responded to a couple of alarms for the Mill Spring Volunteer Fire Department this week -- giving me a chance to use the emergency lights installed on my Freestyle while we were in Ann Arbor. They worked great!

Bag it -- or Floating Through the World Cup

Son Sean has joined us for a few days, leaving his Portland practice in other hands. It is great having him here. His wisdom and advice are much appreciated.

The attempted surgery was five days ago, just before the 4th of July weekend. My throat felt fine because nothing had been cut or scraped. But I had a reaction to the anesthetic that was most unpleasant: urinary retention.

By midnight the day of the surgery I was a hurtin' pup. So Cathy and her husband Martin hauled me off to the emergency room of St. Joseph's Mercy Hospital, where a catheter was inserted and a bag strapped to my thigh. There was great relief! Friday morning Tim and I visited a urologist who said I should keep the catheter and the bag until Monday. I was able to find some humor in all this. And it made it much easier to watch the World Cup without missing any action caused by bathroom breaks. Sean went to the urologist with me on Monday. I got rid of the bag but had to insert a catheter myself thrice daily until my bladder returned to normal.

Meanwhile, son Tim Green had made an appointment for me with Dr. George Henning, a radiation oncologist at St. Joseph's. We all trooped over to the hospital from Cathy's house on July 6 for a preliminary visit with the oncologist. After much internal debate and family discussion I decided to have the radiation therapy in Ann Arbor rather than in North Carolina. If we have this done while at home in Mill Spring it will mean an hour drive each way for Sylvia. It will also mean she will be without the support of our great kids. The therapy will begin July 24 and will be concluded around Labor Day. That's a long spell to be away from home.

We arranged to rent a furnished apartment in Ann Arbor but Cathy had notified the people at St. Luke's Lutheran Church of our situation. A wonderful couple loaned us the use of their home -- they are out of the country until Labor Day -- so we can avoid the expense of renting the furnished apartment. The leasing agent at the apartment complex graciously agreed to cancel our agreement.

Deeply Disappointed

The surgery to remove the cancer on my right vocal cord happened on June 29 -- but it didn't happen, too.

I was put under -- a difficult task for me and for the anesthesiologist. See why at http://www.asahq.org/publicationsAndServices/Difficult%20Airway.pdf.

The anesthesiologist wanted to prepare me for an "awake intubation" which is much more difficult for the patient and the doctor than for an intubation while asleep. The danger was that if they put me to sleep and could not intubate they might not be able to wake me up. So we did this before entering the surgical suite:

1. A nasal spray to deaden that airway.

2. Gargle and swallow increasingly thicker doses of Lidocaine. This is a local anesthetic. The purpose was to deaden the tongue, throat, mouth and all that makes up the airway. This would allow the intubation with relatively less discomfort.

3. Pray that all would work. Pastor Rick Story, a pastor affiliated with Voice for Jesus Church, was at the bedside as I gargled. So were Sylvia and Cathy.

4. After another examination in surgery the aneshesiologist decided to try a regular intubation. "We can breathe for you, I am certain," he said.

So all that nasty Lidocaine was not necessary, after all.

I went to sleep hearing the surgeon and the anesthesiologist discussing what they would do. I woke up alone in the recovery room. Sylvia and Cathy were quickly summoned. I was okay. I had survived. But I could see in their eyes that something was amiss.

It was Cathy who told me. Sylvia said later she would not have been able to hold back the tears.

The surgery was not successful.

Dr. Hogikyan had not been able to reach all of the tumor, either. So he decided to remove none of it rather than just get a piece. The disappointment was like a blow to the stomach. But upon reflection I felt confident that God's hand was still in this and I am just along for the ride. He has the controls.

My main reactions were anger and shame. Anger at myself for thinking I was bullet-proof and that all those warnings against smoking were meant for other people, not for me. Shame because of what I was putting Sylvia, the kids and all those who love me through. It took some serious prayer before I could forgive myself een though Sylvia had already said I was forgiven.

I will have to have radiation therapy. And I will praise God that this was caught early enough!