Christmas (Kill) Joy!

I love Christmas. Well, until this year anyway. Daily doses of radiation kind of do that to you. I guess it beats the alternative, though.

Since I am a music guy, Christmas is the Holy Grail of songdom. Lots of wonderful tunes, both sacred and secular, have a place in my heart. They also litter the radio landscape. I prefer the older versions of tunes, though some overplayed songs want to make me scream. I used to enjoy “Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt. It now causes me to change the channel posthaste. Not to sound too Grinchy, but… hey, I am only human!

Since I have a 45-minute trip to radiation one-way, I have been listening to old-time radio shows on Sirius/XM channel 148. This week, they have been playing Christmas episodes of shows from the late 1930s through about 1955. These old shows make my trips seem shorter, and lend a Christmas spirit that hearkens to a simpler time. Maybe I'll talk more about these radio shows in the future.

I usually enjoy visiting retailers this time of year. Shopping in a brick-and-mortar store may seem old fashioned, but it carries a certain satisfaction. Besides, shopping today isn't so much mom and pop shops as it is mega-retailers. My wife and I have always been impressed with our experiences at the I-469 Exit 25 Meijer store in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Not only is the store neat and clean and the staff friendly, but the other shoppers are very cordial and courteous. That is, until my last visit.

I stopped for a few grocery items after my radiation session yesterday. An eggnog coupon coerced me into buying Burger Dairy eggnog. Not like we have anything against Burger Dairy, but a half gallon of Dean’s eggnog was about the same price as a quart of Burger’s. The difference (other than my 35 cent coupon) was that the Dean eggnog expired before Christmas. What an abomination! It is eggnog, not Labor Day beer for a cookout. The Burger eggnog must have the half-life of uranium, since it was good until five years after I am dead. The 35 cent savings just sweetened the deal, so to speak.

A little old lady (sorry if that isn’t P.C.) asked me if the Burger eggnog had nutmeg in it. It did, though it was way down on the list of ingredients. The little old lady told me how much she prefers Burger custard eggnog. She had bought it by mistake on her last visit to Meijer, but said it was the best eggnog she had ever had. She mentioned that could really taste the nutmeg. The slot for the custard eggnog was empty, indicating that it may indeed be a superior holiday product.

My interaction with the little old lady was the high point of my visit. Less than a minute later, I was nearly mowed down by an employee with a cart full of liquor. The young man didn’t even bother to apologize for the near collision. In fact, I believe that he scowled at me. “Get out of my way," seemed to emanate from his very being. Either that, or it was getting near his lunch break and I was slowing him down from his goal of a Steak ‘n’ Shake value meal.

Checkout became my first deliberate unpleasant experience at this Meijer store. Only a few of the ”regular” registers were open. Since they were not offering an employee discount at the self-checkout lanes, I opted for one staffed by an employee. The young lady, and she was indeed young, did not greet me. I only had a few items, all of which fit into three sacks. One bag only contained our Christmas dinner rolls.

I had my eggnog coupon, which the girl told me to “place there” on the check writing stand. I complied. At the end of her tally, I ran my credit card. “Here you go,” she said as she handed me my receipt, and proceeded to very cordially greet the much younger male customer behind me. As I attempted to collect my three sacks of groceries from the carousel, I had to chase the last one around as the cashier bagged Mr. Goodbar’s groceries, turning the carousel, oblivious to my paid for grocery pursuit. I had become the Invisible Man, forgotten but not gone. I nearly said something snide to her, but because of the holiday I held my tongue, grabbed my nomadic sack of groceries, and hit the bricks for home.  

It saddened me to be reduced to a minor inconvenience to a young cashier at a Meijer store. I was coming from prostate cancer radiation session number 22, but was treated as if I had gone to a self-checkout. She had no way of knowing my circumstance, nor did she seem to care. I also realize that many customer service representatives are disrespected, and that occurs even more often during the holidays. I know that my cashier may be having some crisis in his/her life. Still,fawning over the next guy told me that this wasn’t the case here. An old fat guy just wasn’t a priority.

My wish is that we all may treat each other as we would like to be treated. Not just at Christmas, but all year long. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and God bless us, every one!

  

GO!

As I write this, Christmas is just 11 days away. Christmas feels very different this year, mostly because of the dramatic change in my daily routine. Everything seems to revolve around my daily 45 mile drive to Fort Wayne, Indiana for my radiation treatment. This is followed by the 45 mile drive back home. An hour-and-a-half commute every day is not for me. Since I am only at the cancer center for 30 minutes or less, that drive has developed a non-stop feel to it. I must drink a bottle of water on the way to Fort Wayne, since a full bladder reduces incidental radiation of the bladder. Unlike radiotherapy for other parts of the body, radiation to the prostate also affects the bladder and lower digestive tract by proximity.  

The two preparatory sessions that I was dreading were not quite as expected. Implantation of the markers in my prostate was worse than I thought. The actual mechanics of the procedure were akin to the biopsy, except there was no numbing and rather than removing tissue, two markers were injected into my prostate. I have to say that smarted.

The CT scan was not a biggie. The worst part of that procedure was getting alignment tattoos, and that wasn’t bad at all. I was surprised at how little time it took for my leg casting to set up. The cast seems to be made of a cardboard-type substance.

After one simulated session, it was time for the real McCoy. My first three sessions were the week of Thanksgiving. There is no humility in this process. You get on the table, pull down your pants and place your legs in your custom mold. I am to the point now (18 treatments in) where I don’t think about how awkward it is to pull your pants down in front of young ladies. It is just part of the procedure. I suppose that under different circumstances, one could be arrested for this, or at least sued for harassment.

The radiation technicians are great. They do this all day long, seeing someone different every ten minutes or so. They are just as kind and pleasant as they could possibly be. In fact, everyone at the prostate cancer center is very kind and understanding. They know what you are going through. They know that you are uncomfortable about the fact that you have cancer, and that the treatment and particularly its side effects can be unpleasant.

The sessions aren’t too bad. You verify that those are your leg molds (your name is on them), that the information on the screen is indeed you (the photo is a dead giveaway), and then you lie on the table. After dropping your drawers and getting aligned, the techs then head for a safe area to control the machine for your treatment. Each session starts with x-rays and adjustment of the table. The actual radiation sessions consists of being shot with the beam from seven different positions, each approximately 20 seconds long. I am told that the amount of radiation varies in each position. The entire process from walking into the chamber to leaving the chamber takes approximately 10 minutes.

Wednesday is “doctor day.” After treatment, each patient sees the oncologist. I like the doctor, though he pulls no punches. I am starting to get some skin irritation from the radiation, and he was kind enough to share, “It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

In addition to the skin issues, fatigue is becoming a concern. I take a nap when I get home, though sometimes life gets in the way. The wife’s car had some mechanical issues this week, so in addition to my 90-mile trip, I had to take her to and from work. This eliminated my nap. Due to holiday activities and other obligations, I have been driving somewhere just about every night.

Because of all of this driving coupled with the fatigue and the usual busy December schedule, I am not feeling very festive. Actually, I am feeling kind of depressed. The focus of my every weekday is that drive and treatment. I do not look forward to it. Now that some side effects are becoming evident with only about a third of my sessions completed, it is more challenging to maintain a positive attitude.

Maybe I am just feeling sorry for myself. What I do know is that I am looking forward to this all being over with. One really nice thing about Christmas this year is that I get four glorious consecutive days where I don’t have to drive to Fort Wayne. Four days without radiation - that is a real gift this year!