4. Preparing for Radiotherapy

Radiotherapy, what the hell is that?” – I googled, and it sounds pretty scary! They’re gonna shoot radiation into my brain to kill cells… great! Preparing for something that sounds so scary is something I was concerned about, but in retrospect, I had no need to worry.

First of all, I made sure I got my flu jab (something everyone should do!). Who needs flu when fighting off cancer?!

Next up was creating a radiotherapy mask – This involves using a hot plastic mesh, placing it on your face, and working it into the grooves of your face. I had no idea what to expect, I thought it would burn, or rip my beard hairs out, but it was quite the opposite:

  • Firstly the specialists created a ‘cradle’ by pouring a Yorkshire-pudding-coloured paste into a plastic bag and working it around the back of my head. It was warm, and felt like a relaxing neck and head massage!

  • Next up was heating the plastic mesh that would go on my face, using pretty much just a sci-fi looking sink of warm water. When the placed it over my face, it was like a hot towel in a spa! The sheet was then worked into my face to make sure it would hold my head in place, and then cooled with wet paper towels.

That was it! I expected some horrific torture experience, and in reality, it felt like a slightly-weird spa session. Here’s the final product:

My radiotherapy mask.

My radiotherapy mask.

Once out of ‘the mould room’ I grabbed a coffee with my mum, awaiting a CT scan to ensure that the mask was correctly made. CT’s have become a regular occurrence now, so nothing scary to report here.

The next day, I travelled back to the hospital for an MRI scan to get an updated picture of the inside of my head ready for Radiotherapy the following week. If you’ve never had an MRI scan before, picture a giant mechanical doughnut that makes lots of loud humming sounds. As with all normal MRIs, the first scan took around 15-20 minutes. Once the first scan was completed, a contrast dye (used to enhance the quality of the pictures captured) is injected via a canular, and a second scan was taken. This dye can sometimes make people feel nauseous, so if you ever have it injected, don’t be worried if you feel sick afterwards!

Alongside the Radiotherapy prep, I met with my oncology team to organise chemotherapy, and also the normal-life aspects of treatment. There are some amazing charities that support people throughout their cancer journey, most of which are unheard of:

  • For the social care aspect, charities such as Teenage Cancer Trust and CLIC Sargent have worked with me to discuss working, benefits, and support for myself, family and close friends. These amazing charities build games rooms and creative spaces inside the cancer wards, along with organising events and activities to make life more enjoyable during treatment.

  • Maggie’s is a charity that provides a ‘home away from home’ for cancer patients. Sterile, white hospital buildings are all too familiar, and Maggie’s know this. They have amazing hubs that you can feel at home in – Whether it be to grab a cuppa, sit in their beautiful garden, or sleep on their super-comfy sofas (which are pretty much beds).

When you think of Chemotherapy, you probably think of someone with very little hair, in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV (intravenous) line. Granted, this stereotype does come from reality (Chemotherapy does make your hair thin or fall out, and in a lot of cases it is delivered via an IV line on a hospital bed) however, this is not how it’s being delivered to treat my cancer.

By some luck, the best way to deliver Chemo for combatting brain cancers is through a chemotherapy pill – Which means no IV lines, no lumbar punctures or injections! For once, I hit the jackpot! Super easy, aside from the fact that touching the pills will burn your skin, and the 3 hours of no-eating which surround it – But who cares about that; no needles!

Roll on Radiotherapy and Chemo – let’s kick Ted’s arse!

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5. Radiotherapy & Chemo Week One

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3. Glioblast-oh-shit