being a father, fighting cancer
I’m strapped onto a motorized table. My hands grip adjustable holds that are meant to help align my upper body to millimeter accuracy so that the powerful, invisible radiation beam hits its intended target: my tumor. Red lasers find my alignment tattoos. My entire head is encased in a custom mask that was molded to my face during my simulation just two weeks ago. The mask is securely attached to this motorized tray, which will immobilize my head and neck.
“Do you know why you’re here today?” the doctor asked.
“No, not really,” I replied. I have a dentist. A hygienist. And an oral surgeon. Before the scheduler called to make this appointment, I had never heard of a dental oncologist. Can you even get cancer in your teeth?
Continue reading “Dental Oncology”
Radioactive sugar solution coursed through my veins from an IV in my right elbow. Cancer loves sugar. Within 45 minutes the sugar would be gobbled up by any cancerous masses within my body, to be detected by a special high-tech machine that would tell me if my cancer has spread, or has stayed in its little nook in my throat.
And now, we wait.
Medicaid is amazing. We’ve been on Medicaid since April of 2020, just after I was laid-off due to the pandemic. Until I was on it, it was really just something I heard about in news stories — I had no idea of the actual experience of it.
On “Full Medicaid,” our family has paid zero dollars for medical treatments and prescription drugs, of which there have been quite a few. While finding a private practice that accepts Medicaid is tricky, especially in the “nicer” areas of town, the major hospital systems all accept it and for our purposes, it works. We just made sure our pediatrician and PCP all took the coverage and all is well.
Continue reading “Fun with Medicaid”
“It’s cancer.”
Dr. Dobson’s eyes said it before her mask-covered mouth could say the words. Even in my post-biopsy-operative anesthesia haze, the words still hit me like a ton of bricks.
The bright side is, the Dr. explained, my children are safe, this cancer was not hereditary. No, this one was all my doing. A silver lining, however tiny, indeed.
Continue reading “Hypopharyngeal”