Not sure which day this is, but it feels like a turning point, and not necessarily a good one. I began radiation therapy in earnest this week and I've been troubled and anxious about it for weeks. The main problem is that my peripheral neuropathy condition makes it very difficult to get onto the radiation "table".  It takes one tech to lift my legs, while two hold my shoulders to keep me from sliding off the table.  Clearly this facility is not designed with disabled patients in mind. Seems ironic and absurd to me. The people are great, and that helps make up for it. It's as though they know patients are struggling with the facility and the procedures and they have to be on their toes to offset that. Whatever the reason, I'm grateful for that part of it.  Five days per week for twenty eight sessions. Two done, bunches to go.

Today we also began Flouorouracil (5-FU) chemotherapy which is intended to facilitate or enhance the radiation treatment. I'd prepared myself for the weekly chemo treatments, but was surprised to find the doctor decided to use a continuous infusion pump instead of weekly IV infusions. So I have this damn pump in a bag strapped around my neck for six weeks. This is and will continue to be annoying as Hell. I'm so sick of tubes pouring stuff in and draining stuff out. It's like I needn't be here at all, so long as the tubes and pumps are doing their jobs.  They say the side effects with 5-FU are generally less severe than with Gemcitabine, which I tolerated very well. Doc said I'm more likely to suffer side effects from radiation than from the chemo.  Gotta remember he's trying to cure me of this menace when we approached the treatment thinking cure was not a reasonable option.

That's the troubling part of the day.  I asked him what he meant when he said, at the onset of treatment, that he "thought he could do me some good."  His response today was that although the odds are against us, it's not impossible that we will cure this monster. So long as it's not making matters worse, it's therefore worth doing the treatment. He suggested that the secondary objective was to delay recurrence, which is frequent with pancreatic cancer. And suddenly mortality hit me in the face. Because he said that when recurrence occurs, there is essentially no cure and the cancer will kill you. So in that regard, it's a matter of buying time. For what? How can I use this time to benefit those I love?  How can I use the time to experience the fullness of life? Finally coming to encounter the reality of pancreatic cancer. And it's no fun. Could use some ideas here, folks.

Stay tuned. And don't give up. Ever.