T-2: Radiotherapy

This was the day that worries/d me the most: sitting Kay in front of a Gamma Ray generator for +/- 20 mins. It also worried Kay greatly. We discovered in the weekend that she'd done some of her own research on the subject at school and judging by what she thought was going to happen she'd been reading about the history of Hiroshima. The very excellent child care staff took care of the problem and carefully explained to Kay what was going to happen and what she could expect. But still...

The first step in the process took place this morning when Kay was taken for an Echo to localize her kidneys. I had understood that the kidneys were to be given some shielding from the radiotherapy. But when we got there, the doctor told us that his instructions were only to localize one kidney. I thought that this was pretty strange and bearing in mind by (lack of) faith in the system I insisted that our nurse verify the instructions. An hour later she duly came back and explained to me that normally there should be no damage to the kidneys, but in the event that damage did occur they wanted to be sure that one of them would be working. Hmm... I found that a rather callous but rational piece of thinking. But then the nature of the whole process is callous and rational.

Mid-afternoon Kay was expected in the Radiology department. As with the trip to Radiology for the Echo, she was transported with a mask covering her face and largely under a bedsheet. When we arrived she was moved onto a special semi-reclined chair and positioned very carefully for the radiotherapy. Lead shielding was positioned strategically to protect her eyes and reduce the dosage applied to her heart, lungs and lower legs. A test film was then made to ensure that the shielding was correctly positioned and then the treatment began.

Kay was brilliant. Actually I don't have the words to described how strong, courageous and brave she was. I had tears in my eyes and was, frankly, scared stiff by the whole process. But Kay sat there and took the whole thing like, well, a Clint Eastwood character. I am so astronomically proud of her.

To give her something to occupy her the child nurse had provided the audio book version of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. So Kay sat and listened to the opening chapter(s) while she was stuck in the chair. But later complained that she didn't understand what was going on because it was in Dutch and she only knew the English version and all the characters had different names. So much for that, then.

The radiotherapy procedure was first to "toast" one side of her and then turn her through 180 degrees and "toast" the other side. The first toasting took around 10 mins or so with a short break to check some radiation monitors that had been placed on her body. Then her chair was turned and the whole process of aligning the shielding was performed again. Then the second toasting took place, also around 10 minutes. Kay developed a headache about half way through but apart from that initially showed no other symptoms.

With the procedure complete, I lifted Kay back onto her bed and we packaged her up and took her back to her room. She then started developing a mild reaction, a light feverish feeling, worsing headache and some nausea. However she had been liberally dosed with Sofran beforehand so the nausea was well controlled.

After a couple of hours she had recovered enough to be quite chatty and just before I returned to the McD house for my night of rest, she was chatting with Natasha on Skype. However the full effects of the radiotherapy will not show themselves for some days, so we're not out of the woods yet. Kay's immue system is now totally erased and she is susceptible to any bug that feels like lifting a finger agianst her. But we have completed the induction therapy and hopefully Kay has had the last chemo/radiotherapy she will ever need.

The countdown goes on hold tomorrow. The transport problems have been sorted out and the donors stem cells should arrive in Nijmegen on Thursday afternoon. Kay will get them late on Friday. So we should now have a couple of days of rest before the big moment, assuming the Icelanders don't turn their Volcano up.

Radiotherapy complete, packaged up for the trip back to her room