Radioactive

A Header for The Ages

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: Sultans of Swing : Dire Straits

  Update                                                

It has been an irregular week.  Lately, we have been fairly regimented in our schedule, but not this week.

The Matsons were here, a week ago, for our (Alabama's) loss.  And we had a great time.  There is nothing like friends sharing your weekends.  The outcome of the game slightly dampened Saturday, but we will get over that.

I am not at all biased, but I thought LSU did not win the game as much as we gave it to them.  Tua's fumble and pick were not typical, and a snap over our kicker's head, did not help our cause.  I won't even mention a real bad call by the zebras, which also cost us.  This week's game was extremely conflicting.  A win is always welcome, but Tua's injury breaks my heart.  All I can think of, is Bo Jackson's similar tackle, which brought about the end of his career.  My prayers are with Tua, that he will return a healthy man.  If football returns to his life, it will be a bonus.

Our golf cart battery charger went kaput this week.  Our cart would not charge and I took the charger to the dealer to test it, as our batteries were only a few months old.  Sure enough, it had to be repaired with a new board.  $169.

As that was happening, just after Kath went to work, the garage door slammed down, its spring broken.  So now I had a dead cart, trapped in our garage. This was not a good start to the week.

I called Precision Garage Door, and they were able to send someone out within a few hours.  The nice young man had a thorough look and then he returned to his truck and said he would be back as soon as he prepared an estimate.  I had already been on line, to find out that a new spring installation would cost somewhere between $200-$300.  He returned to show me his reckoning on a lined piece of paper.  A proper job would require nearly $1500, and a lesser job, about $1200.  I told him that I just wanted a new spring.  He could not do that.  A much more robust job was required.  One that would assure its future for years to come.  I wanted something that would work when Kat got home.  The repairman and I were preparing for vastly different futures.  Long term for me would be Christmas.  This Christmas.

As I prepared to show the repairman the front door (the garage door would not open), he pointed to a DGD label on the door, and suggested, with some slight disdain, that someone like them might repair only the spring mechanism.  I hustled him out and phoned DGD.

Another fine young man, called Eric, came and quoted me on the job.  He, too, wanted to do some peripheral work, but after some clear direction, he installed both springs for $160.  Kath could come home now, and notice nothing different.  My work was done.

So, these are the typical problems of Everyman.  Or Everwoman, for the PC crowd.  But we are now heading back in time to problems of the type which, hopefully, you have not had to face.

2016

                                                                  July 4th, 2016

This is how I looked, over three years ago, on our country's birthday.  My head was still in disrepair from the reconstruction resulting from the AVM (arterial - veinous - malformation) staph infection.  The head on my beer was clearly more attractive than was my forehead.  Oh, how I longed to be as beautiful as that glass of beer.

                                                               October, 3rd, 2016

Fresh from another minor surgery at Moffitt. (Check my wrist).  My head wound had healed well, but the scar had, in no way, diminished.  I wore no hat indoors, but I might have had to, if the staff and patrons had any say.  Pretty messy on the top story.  Trust me.

The New Eruption - February/March 2017

I left you last week, with a very scary looking head shot.  Definitely not, as would this season suggest, a Sugar Plum vision.  And it was evident from that picture, that my hope of improvement, was not, as they say, a happening thing.  I trust it was not too shocking, but it served as a reminder of what we can suffer, manage, and eventually, overcome.  Kind of.

                                             How, and why, would this happen to my head.



On my bride's birthday, I was in hospital for an extensive surgery to remove the growths.  Our friends, Robin and David, drove up from Fort Myers, to be with Kath.  It ended up being an extremely long day.  Thank you for your love.

 For good reason, this was a worrisome time.  As much as these things and I were attached, I was, in no way, fond of them.  We knew they were not likely a small aberration.  Cancer comes in many disguises.  This was probably one.  Confirmation came with my biopsy results.  Melanoma in situ.

                                                Under the hair drier pre-op.  Being sanitized

                         Post-op. Off the shoulder dress, accessorized with a with soft white cap


Dr. Harrington excised the new cancer, taking wide margins, and going deep, to the bone, to guarantee the eradication of all the cells.  He patched the new cavity with a silicone pad and we waited two weeks for the follow-up visit.

The wound was starting to heal, thankfully, but the pathology results were disappointing.  The margins on one edge, were contaminated.  My head exhibited more melanoma.  More surgery would be required.

                                                    March 13th, 2019 - pathology results

The same procedure, in its entirety, was done again.  And we had exactly the same results.  More cancer.  More concern.  And yet another operation.  My head was now a mine field.  Not only were there craters, created by significant excisions, but there was the probability that every future excision would uncover more cancer.  

We were at a crossroad.  We were already running out of skin on my scalp.  Open wounds covered my head.  More work was needed.

If we were going to surrender to cancer, this would be the time.  Chasing down the disease seemed a daunting task.  Going out in public would soon be impossible.  Every new operation was creating a new hole.  And it required cutting out another section of what had already been done.  The sheer number of surgeries was taking its toll.  The anesthesia, the cutting, the bleeding, and the healing.  Glacier-like.  The grafts.  The mess.  The possibility of infection.  Should we just stop?  Now?

My Kathleen and I, and, eventually Dr. Harrington, all talked.  He thought we should continue.  He had a plan.  He would totally undo all of the previous work.  Open everything again.  Create one massive wound.  He would then remove the cancer, seal up the entire area with one large bandage. The type of bandage was Integra, a newer technology, and it would provide a base layer to allow real skin to form on top of it.  I was to become, without super powers, a new six million dollar man.  I would be nothing but a giant skin graft.  Just my head, mind you.

We were becoming drained from the struggle and the lack of success.  Our lives had been centered around hospitals.  And visit after visit.  We had already tip toed near death.  Several times.  My clinical trial had given me hope, and topical cancers were not impressed.  Those cancers wanted their share.  We were not going to get out of the woods so easily.

More, obviously, to come.  Today, I took Kath to school, and then drove to Moffitt, to discuss further work, with Dr. Harrington.  I will update you next week, after I have a chance to talk to my bride.

She continues to struggle with he auto-immune issues.  We are waiting on approval of a new drug, which will give her pain relief and, perhaps an end to her skin irritation.


Looking forward to taking to you again.

Always wonderful to hear from you.  I need you in my life.

jrobinmullen@gmail.com