The End of The Beginning

Today was the first round of radiation treatment. Sherry’s tumors were bombarded by death rays. The whole thing seems so Star Wars with Darth Vader commanding the cancer cells and Luke Skywalker riding isotopes to slay the evil invaders. For images I could go with Jabberwocky and the vorpal blade, or with Odysseus, or with so many other renditions of the same theme. But I think that the technology, the machinery, the control panel outside the radiation room call for, if not Star Wars, at least Mr. Spock.


I know that the side effects of radiation and chemo are cumulative. I rejoice at the slight impact on Sherry today, but with a hand on trepidation. The radiation is likely to cause more swelling which will intensify the symptoms. We are likely to be back to using the wheel chair as opposed to walking with a walker, or with me just holding onto her safety belt and she navigates around our home from chair to recliner, to toilet, to bed. If the symptoms do reoccur at least we had a chance to practice the more difficult transfers while Sherry was in the hospital recovering from surgery. Progress isn’t always in a straight line.

I have received excellent counsel. “Give Hospice a call” is the message from a couple of loving sources. While I know a bit about the range of services Hospice provides, it remains difficult for me to make that call. Sherry and I both know how nastily glioblastoma operates, and that the outcome is predictable if not inevitable. Still, calling Hospice is like beginning the last chapter of a wonderful book. The story has been engagingly glorious and I don’t want it to end. Starting the chapter, even though I know that Hospice could make it a better one, still moves us closer to The End.