December 31, 2010

Radiation Treatment Process Details

These three photos show some of the radiation equipment used to nuke me each day now.  There are two technicians involved in the process. The procedure goes like this:

1.  I have to be there at the Radiation portion of the cancer center at the hospital at 7:15A each week day.  By this time, I have already sedated myself with meds.  I am not in a stupor but significantly relaxed...and about to lose a lot of my memory of the next 2 hours or so.  There is one patient before me.  One of the techs comes to get me as soon as that patient is done with his fun for the morning.
2. I enter the radiation room and go get my special teeth guards and tongue hold-down devices from a storage area and position them in my mouth.  No talking after this...more grunts and growls only.
3. I remove my shirt.  The other patents put on one of those stupid hospital smocks with their butt showing.  I have done all of those I am going to wear since all this started so I have told them to deal with it and let me go without a covering.  Besides, for me with my phobia issues, the cold room helps keep me from imploding during the treatment.
4. They assist me lay down on the movable horizontal portion of the radiation machine.  We have formed a special headrest that was formed to my head shape so that my head does not roll around.  It also slightly elevates my head...a good thing with the phobia issues. Once my head is in position, a pillow is placed under my knees to slightly elevate the legs at that point.
5.  Then the fun begins.  A special tight fitting mask was earlier formed to perfectly fit the outline of my head and upper chest.  The technicians get it now and fit it over me.  It takes a minute for me to move my head around so that it is in the right position so that the mask can be pressed down on me properly.  The mask fits right up against my skin; not with the small air space they suggested might be there when first discussing this nightmare months ago....
6.  Now that I am in the mask properly while it is held down on me by the tech, he or she then uses the numerous locking screw downs that firmly lock the mask to the horizontal surface I am laying on.  As you can see in the photos, I do have openings for my eyes. I can slightly flex the mask by moving my chin if I need to swallow...which at this point is becoming more and more difficult as my throat reacts to the radiation I have already received. The tech now observes if a number of narrow beam lights projecting from the ceiling are hitting special marks made on he mask....sometimes they tattoo the marks on the patient but I "negotiated" that out of my Disney package....
7. The techs leave the room and go to the control room.  The surface holding me is lifted a bit and then it moves me into the radiation machine....we refer to it as the TOMO machine. 
8. A CAT Scan is then made taking about 3 minutes.  Yes, a CAT Scan five days a week for 39 sessions.
9. I am then taken back out of the machine while the technicians use the CAT Scan to make absolutely certain that my head is in exactly the right position to match the radiation beam firing pattern programmed for me.  One tech comes out of the control room stands beside me and reads various readings off the TOMO and casually speaks to me (secretly praying I will not pick this moment to have a panic attack) while the other tech is working to make the final Go or No Go decision.  The time to do this varies each day but rarely tmore than 5 minutes or so elapse...thankfully.
10. Once they decide to go ahead, the tech tells me that decision and leaves the room.  I am then again moved back inside the machine and the radiation begins.  I should mention that there is always a lot of noise inside this room, lots of air conditioning, etc.  While I am inside the TOMO, I also have a lot of different noises going on from virtually all directions going around my body.  The radiation beams are fired from all sorts of angles to hit the many many spots targeted to kill the cancer.  The radiation takes just under 6 minutes while feeling like 15.  I now know to recognize that certain sound that signals me that the radiation is shutting down and the exist is about to occur.  I do keep my eyes closed most of the time in the TOMO but do occasionally open them...probably the craziness in me to see if doing so will make me blow up into a full on panic attack.  So far, no.
11. After I am out, one of the techs rather quickly unscrews my mask and lowers the movable surface to a point where I can ease off.  I then remove my mouth guard, wash all the pieces and put them away ready for the next day.

I have worked out an agreement with the radiation center that makes sure that everyone dealing with me knows about my extraordinarily acute phobia issues.  Also, after a couple of incidents where I was told stuff during treatment that I later had absolutely no memory of, everyone knows that nothing is said to me that is important unless it is written down and pinned to Johnny's shirt for his mommy to read - you get the idea.

We leave the radiation center at this point and go home where I pour a can of "food" into my stomach feed tube. 

Then back into the car and off to Doc Q's office where Nurse Mary weighs me in and then takes me to the infusion room to give me a liter of saline solution and a anti acid through my chest port.  That hydration goes immediately into my blood stream. 

During the weekends when Doc Q's office is closed, I report back to the hospital to receive the hydration.  I get the hydration 7 days a week.  While a lot of trouble, the specialist promise it will make the next many weeks of radiation go easier on me.  That's all I needed to hear to agree to do it each day.

                            Photos of the radiation process
Techs preparing me for radiation....fitting my mask in place

December 24, 2010

Christmas Eve update

It sure does not seem like Christmas Eve...sigh.  Both Lieska and I have noticed that the day has just arrived and we missed all the usual spirit, music, etc. I do not mean to suggest I am surprised what with all the running around we deal with each day now that I am in radiation.  But, I guess I just did realize how intensely immersed in all this we are.  Normal life stuff just is not in our radar.  Very little else is discussed, etc.  Beating cancer is indeed a full time 24 hour a day job.

Yesterday, I had my first chemo infusion to go with the radiation.  And it was a BIG dose for sure; about 20% more than what I was getting during the chemotherapy cycles. Fortunately, I only received one kind of chemo drug instead of the three received during the chemo cycles.  Unfortunately, it is the one that causes the most sever nausea...sigh They dripped loads of saline solution and anti nausea meds in me also. Now we are waiting with fingers crossed to see how hard it hits me.  I have my marching orders for a full regimen of daily anti nausea meds that will hopefully keep me away from the howling bowl until the the body is used to it in a few days.  I frankly do not know if the radiation stirs up the nausea now that the chemo is in me.  I haven't had any nausea during the radiation period up to this moment.

Finally I have a regular radiation treatment time at 7:30A each week day.  We haven't gotten used to going to bed earlier so that we can do the early wake up but that will come soon I am sure.  I have to get up about 2 hours early so I can start my sedation meds so I start the day in a blur and do not quite come out of that until late afternoon.  After radiation, we drive 15 minutes over to Doc Qs place for a quick health check up and a liter of hydration drip that takes about two hour.  And then back to the house a bit before 11A.  Makes for a long morning...for Lieska.  Remember, I am pretty much in La La land through it. 

Lieska wants to continue doing some work; she finds it helps to get away from all this.  I miss her but there really isn't anything she can do for me after the radiation and hydration and I agree it has to be a good thing for her to get way from thinking about this cancer all of the time. 

We didn't get a chance to do any Christmas shopping for each other so we decided love will do just fine like it did 18 years ago when we didn't have money for presents.  :)

Merry Christmas to all.  Thank you all for the many kind messages and wishes throughout this adventure.

December 21, 2010

Radiation continues

The two day break from the radiation was a good thing.  I am going to learn to look forward to these weekends; that is clear to me now. 

Today went as planned with radiation around noon at the hospital and then a two hour hydration drip at Doc Q's office.  Tomorrow will be the same. I snoozed through the hydration - remember I am taking that heavy duty sedative.  I take the sedative about 11A and then live in LaLa land until about 6 or 7 that evening. This is some weird existence.  But at least I am able to do what I need to do each day.

Some early side effects have shown up. The first sensations of a sunburn can be felt on my right neck and cheek.  More troublesome is the thickening of my saliva...did not expect this one for a week or two.  By the way, I am now full into my efforts to try and lessen the damage to my mouth, jaw, teeth and saliva glands. I try and rise my mouth each hour I am awake using a brew of water, salt and baking soda.  I occasionally also do a mouth rinse with a medicine that keeps yeast from growing on my tongue. 

My daily hydration is also an important part of making this journey a little easier the doctors say.  So, once a day up to 7 days a week, they pour a liter of water into my IV port located in my upper right chest. It is amazing that they can dump a liter of water directly into a vein going to my heart like this every day.  But, I don't argue because I feel better after every single one of these fill ups; no exceptions.

While I think I am feeling fine emotionally, I notice that holding a conversation for more than 2-3 minutes is almost impossible for me; in person or on the telephone.  I cannot find words to describe it but it worries me because I am concerned old friends are beginning why I sound so blah and so "not me".  Also my short term memory just continues to deteriorate.  I feel like a live in a little moving 24 to 36 window.  Seriously, if someone were to ask me to tell them about my last week, I absolutely could not do - period.  It frightens the hell out of me!  The doctors, nurses and social work tell me its normal and to get used to it.  Well, that isn't gong to happen...this feel so awful.  I think it also plays into this semi anti-social communication thing I am gong through.

The radiation folks have all been awesome dealing with me and my issues.  Each time a treatment is complete, I have this momentary "high" that comes from realizing that we; the techs and through one more without me blowing up into a mind blowing anxiety attack.while inside the machine.  I thank God for each one of those moments of relief.

December 17, 2010

No crispy pieces

Whew! Three sessions down and I have yet to smell a crispy piece of me or feel a burning sensation inside my body.  The radiation team seems to be everything I could have asked for and more.  They all have been briefed by my terrible phobia issues and working there away around it with me. 

I do not delude myself, though.  I know these are the first...and last...good days of this extremely valuable part of killing of my cancer.  So, I am am absorbing the joy of not having any pain or nausea at this time which frees me to smile a bit and dig out of some depression that has been holding me back.  I am finally able to eat some real food so we are working to stuff as much of that down as we can before mid-next week.  Next week brings back the long day of chem infusion into my body to work with the radiation. So nausea is once again just around the corner.

Somewhere out there in the next week and a half or so will bring new side effects from radiation that I have no experience with.  All the nurses and doctors have gone to great lengths to describe what is coming and what I should do each and every moment of the coming many weeks.  Lieska has received a lot of discussion from them as well knowing that her role will be incredibly essential for me to have a chance at this.

It does feel like I am at arguably some sort of a half way point of all this touch treatment.  Supposedly, the tough half is about to unfold.  I think I will pretend I do not know that :)

December 15, 2010

Death Ray (for the cancer) Sesson one complete

The first session of combo chemo/radiation is done. Even better, no duct tape was required, none of the equipment in the treatment room was damaged, no radiologist were injured and I pretty much grinned through the whole thing. I had taken my full load of sedatives of course.

Tomorrow we play the whole thing out again. And each week day thereafter until we have done 39 of these....some time in February. But, tomorrow I am going to secretly chuck 1/4th of the sedatives into the woods and go in that much less doped up to see if I can take it. If it turns out I made a mistake and I cannot ultimately lay down for tomorrow's treatment, so be it. I just have to experiment so I can work away from so much sedation; it is horrible being so brain-dead.

And, like, what are they going to do? Fire me? Punish me and give me cancer? Beat me with a medical grade cotton swab? Or bill me for the wasted session. Hmmm, lets see how that pays out.

"Dennis, your total charges so far are $Gazillions. Now, because you obviously got a hairball caught between your meerkat size brain and your sedative bottle, we are going to have to charge you for that missed session $2,300. Really!? Yes. Is that with or without fries? Dennis, you do not seem to be taking this serious serious! Really?! Sigh...never mind. By the way, have you seen Darth Vader this morning? I need to check with him about adding some cool graphics on this plain looking mask you folks fab'ed for me. What the heck are people going to think if the Paparazzi get a shot of this and go public!? Oh, is it a problem for you if I screw on a little 1/4 wave 2m whip; it gets lonely in there while you boys are firing all those radiation death rays through my head, neck and upper chest."

Yes, are right. I am feeling pretty good having made it through this first day. I have been told that I will have one or two weeks where the treatment side effects will be very small. But, with total certainty, after that, its going to be very difficult, painful and trying. So! Today I chose to smile, be grateful, give you and me both a little laugh. We can cry, wring our hangs, shout Why Me, and crawl on all fours later. But, this is my pink cloud moment and I will damn well take it!

December 14, 2010

Radiation Begins Tomorrow

Surprise! I need to report that my combination chemo/radiation treatment at the cancer center will begin tomorrow.  Being caught off guard, I am working on some serious anxiety lessening strategies tonight; I needed to get psyched up for this waaay earlier than expected. 

So, here we go head locked in that masked screwed down to the flat surface and stuck inside the radiation machine. I so want to kill off this cancer and live but oh how I have wondered if I will be able to make it through the next 8 weeks....I am about to find out. 

Everything that makes me whatever it is I am today tells me I will indeed cowboy up and get through this...I am apparently just not listening yet :)

Another surprise today - I was informated that the total number of days in the radiation machine has been raised to 39. Treatments are given 5 days a week... it looks like this adventure will go into mid-February. 

After that, I pray for a good PET scan that cannot find any cancer. 

December 13, 2010

Dec 11-13, Saturday/Sunday/Monday

The cancer center took me in under their wing over the weekend, thankfully.  The center, where my radiation will take place, naturally must have an outpatient area open each day for the patients needing some sort of care.  Since the place now has me listed as one of "theirs" because I will be a daily patient there, they treated me like a wounded family member each weekend morning.  I received hydration and meds for nausea each morning. All that hydration and anti nausea juice allowed me to take in the canned liquid food through the stomach feed tude. I checked my weight this morning and was really happy to see I had picked up 2 lbs over the weekend.  I look like a *^%# train wreck still taking place but I feel better this morning. Doc Q and Nurse Mary or Dawn will check me out this morning and give me another fill up of hydration.  The mouth feels more like it has a forest fire blazing away instead of the surface of the Sun so maybe real food is only a couple days away...Man, I miss real food.

The nursing staff at the center used our time there to give it to us straight on what was just around the corner during the radiation.  The first thing they did is make sure to tell me that I  need to quickly make sure my doctor gets my radiation treatment right by remembering to issues a order for daily after radiation. The nurses are certain I will survive the side effects of the chemo/radiation much better...and they darned sure ought to know. 

Since I was feeling better today, I drove to this appointment and then made a quick trip to my office to sign a pile of documents and wish everyone a Happy Holiday.  It was so good to see everyone again. I did not even try to hold back a happy tear or two.  Life is too short to not show you care...

December 12, 2010

Friday report

As I came to, the one sensation I was most aware of was that I had a cold something next to my cheek.  Thanks to the architects who designed the medical building that houses Doc Qs Huntington Beach location, I was laying face down on some lovely fake blue granite tile instead of vinyl on the Infusion Room’s bathroom floor.  I was covered in a cold sweat so that probably made the coolness even more pronounced.  It is funny how sometimes in life even a cold bathroom floor can be such a perfect place to be…

That was Friday about 6:30 P.M. when everyone on the Doc’s staff was likely already home or at Holiday party someplace.  Except for Nurse Dawn and Nurse Cheryl who have earned my eternal love by deciding to let me make an emergency like trip to the office to see what they could do for me to try and get my post Cycle 3 healing going.  I was in really bad shape now down more than 10 pounds in the last week, lingering nausea and stomach problems from chemo and frighteningly weak.  I had not “walked” in 3-4 days; instead I stumbled along with my feet spread a bit for balance, taking those old folks kind of straight-leg steps while reaching out for a wall or something else to guide me along. 

I laid in my bed or recliner for too many days thinking “just one more day” thereby putting myself in a nasty negative G dive that I could not pull out of.   I gave in and asked Lieska to try to get me into Doc Qs even though it was already 3 PM Friday.  My normal Doc Qs was basically shutdown for the weekend so they had referred us to the HB office.  Quick consideration there confirmed the obvious; there wasn’t enough time for me to get there and for them to do any kind of effective treatment.  That is until someone apparently got in the conversation and volunteered to stay after hours for me.  That someone obviously was Nurse Dawn or Cheryl.

We got there as quick as we could.  As soon as Dawn weighed me in, she knew I wasn’t just being a cry baby this time.  So she stuck a needle in to my Chest Port thingy and started pumping saline solution into it thus immediately into my blood stream.  We talked at length about what was going on.  After considering all those details and having Rachelle, Doc Qs Physician Assistant check me out, they added a couple more bags of wonder juice into a tangle of plastic tube Y connections.  If these women had been ham radio operators I would have been proud to see what a wonderful scene they had created and plugged into my chest!  It matched any good rat’s nest of cables, etc., seen behind a ham’s radio table.

Actually the conversation with Rachelle turned out to be a very touching moment.  While we talked, I began feeling so bad seeing how deeply these people cared and how intense they were to help me. I was so sorry that I had to bother them this way and couldn’t hold back water from leaking out of my eyes as I said that as well as how grateful I was to be in that chair safe and under their care.  I quickly turned away and tried to brush water away before she would see it.  Rachelle tried to pretend she has not seen by riveting her eyes on her clipboard.  I knew she had seen, though, because when she did finally look at me again, her eyes were full of shimmering water. Then this angel touched my hand with a special softness as she rushed off; probably the kind of touch these people fight hard to contain within themselves so that they can somehow remain strong when people like me, not one damn tiny bit as tough as I thought, need their care.

After the infusion of the saline and other drugs was complete, I was feeling better.  Still weak as can be but no nausea, I was ready to go home after a quick stop in the restroom.  What I thought was going to be a quick sit down with Mother Nature went bad….real bad.  After winning the battle against vomiting since the middle of October, without any warning, my stomach exploded upwards. It was crazy, just wham up it shot!  I had to dive off the toilet I was parked on…shorts and pants at my ankles...and vomit what tiny bit I had in me.  That quickly turned into horrible dry heaves that went on and on with Dawn and Cheryl outside the door calling in trying to figure out if I was okay.  No surprise to me, as weak as I was, eventually my arms and head slide off the bowl and I collapsed to the floor. 

Or I guess that is how it went – I sure do not have any memory of thinking, “Hey!  I think I’ve had all the fun I can take screaming at the top of my lungs into a porcelain bowl so I’m going to nick a little nap now down there on that pretty blue tile floor.  What a sight that had to be, snot running out of my nose, slobber out of my mouth dripping onto the floor, and my underwear and pants still all the way down tangled in my feet.  Another UTube moment lost, huh?!

Speaking of bathroom, I think I will wrap this up for now…

December 9, 2010

One step backwards...sigh

I spoke too soon.  The weakness took me a step backwards since the last report and I cannot seem to start the post-chemo healing.  My mouth lining and tongue are a total mess.  All those surfaces are rough, feel thick and like leather.  The can food stuff is creating a lot of stomach yuck and constant reflux that burns my mouth like hot acid.  Lieska and I tried to find something....anything...that I could swallow this morning but it turned out to be a humiliating experience as I tried to take each small piece.  I sat in a chair like a blubbering baby trying to take some jello or hard boiled egg whites. I know I will heal up once again soon good enough to go on to the next bag of thrills but I am really sick of this.

Blood lab test results came in yesterday and dashed my last hopes for being allowed to attend my company holiday party Friday for at least a few minutes.  I guess actually every doc and nurse in my world knew that it was out of the question but I kept hoping that I would come out of this last chemo fast enough to have an immune system that could take being close to so many people.  Oh well, I will just plan on having a great time next year...

December 7, 2010

Late night Tuesday

Finally after what seems like an endless number of day, I sit here in my recliner thinking maybe, just maybe, finally I am going to get some nausea relief. I seem just a little more clear-thinking and without as much stomach distress. Lieska took me to Doc Q's so that Nurse Mary could remove my chemo pump and give me 1000cc of saline hydration and a IV anti-nausea drug.   I had another problem this cycle that she could not do anything about; swollen throat.  The swelling has reached a point where I can feel the scars of my initial throat surgery rubbing against the other side of my throat each time I swallow.  There does not see to be anything to do but watch it to make sure the throat does not close up much more before make a quick visit to Doc Z's or the ER.  The swelling does not seems to be getting worse, though, so I am not worrying this issue.

I have not had any regular food since last Wednesday but the scales at Doc Q's said I only lost about 5 pounds, thankfully.  If my head continues to clear up, I will check emails, voicemail, and try to begin to ease my way back into life.  All the lost sleep and nausea, of course, I am really weak and useless for now. 

December 5, 2010

Just hanging in there

The nausea just will not seem to go away yet so I am hanging in there by not moving around much, taking the meds.  Thanks for the NFL to fill in a bit today to help move it along....each day gone is one day closer to Good Days in my book.

December 4, 2010

Going to be tough cycle

As planned, I spent most of Thursday with Nurse Mary and the staff at Doc Q's office receiving my infusion of bug juice.  And, as promised, the dosages were raised to their max....a fact I became well aware of Friday morning.  I woke up Friday feeling pretty good with just a small headache and a now familiar feeling of being a bit on the dingy side of what I claim to be normal for me. 

Around 11A, Lieska and I headed out to go to my work office to pick up some things.  Not a good idea.  We had to turn around within just a few miles because nausea rapidly started to build up.  It was all downhill from there.  Fortunately, I was able to get the nausea under control before having to spend time at the ol’ howling bowl by taking some of the medications given me for just this type of situation.  A couple of rubs on that Lucky Rock undoubtedly helped, too.  After a nap to settle myself, it was time to head to Doc Qs office for hydration and the bone marrow shot.

Saturday brought on some serious chemo brain as they call it when your memory is just trashed.  I am sure I drove the family crazy repeating questions.  The nausea was kept just under the danger threshold most of the day which equates to a day sitting and laying around like a rotting vegetable.  It’s now about 4A and I can’t sleep....part of what is now a normal routine during the chemo sessions.  I was hungry, too, so I just poured a couple cans of nourishment into my stomach through that tube; traditional foods would lead to consultation at the howling bowl I fear.

Doc Q and I met Friday went I was in for the bone marrow shot and hydration.  It is now serious time for her to make some decisions regarding the chemo drug I will receive while undergoing the radiation therapy.  Also, she needed to decide on how I would receive the drug.  The chemo selected, unfortunately, is the one that caused my current nausea but she and Doc C, the Radiologist, believe it to be the one to best enhance the radiation treatment chances of killing off my cancer.  They decided to administer the drug to me over a 5 hour infusion session once every 3 weeks or so during my radiation course.

I also had to make a very difficult decision regarding a second but optional drug to receive during the radiation.  This particular drug has been used with some degree of success to limit some radiation permanent damage to the saliva production organs and the skin in the treatment area.  It has one promised side effect; bad nausea.  Other possible side effects that have been encountered at the radiation center include full body rashes, lowered blood pressure and other issues that have required hospitalization.  Doc Q left the decision up to me.  After wavering a couple times, I decided to forego this drug after deciding I had enough to worry about just trying to get past my phobia issues so that I can do the radiation.  I decided adding optional nausea on top of unavoidable nausea from the mandatory drug just was not worth the odds of any guarantee of limiting radiation damage. 

So, I am told to expect "thick skin" in my neck area. Fine, it will go nicely with my thick head.  I am also now committed to carrying around a bottle of water with me the rest of my life.  Done.  Next? 

December 2, 2010

About that Lucky Rock

When I mentioned the Lucky Rock that was loaned to me, I forgot to describe it.  It is a B I G Lucky Rock weighing in over 3 pounds!

I am one fortunate guys with this much luck on my side, so many good friends and relatives pulling for me, and a strong spiritual base to carry me forward.  Life is Good.

Now I  need to rush off to let Nurse Mary pour that chemo-cocktail into my heart so it can spread it throughout my body to give the cancer a worse time than that juice will me...

Chemo Cycle 3 Begins

Thursday morning I will return to Doc Q's office and spend 6 hours with Nurse Mary kicking off Chemo Cycle 3 by taking two heavy duty drugs by IV through my chest port catheter ; this time full dosage.  At the end of the day, Mary will once again hook up the darned carry-around chemo pump with drug No. 3 - this one now also at full dosage. 

I have sent an email to Forrest Gump asking him to open the box of cholocate so I can see what side ettects, etc. will fill my next 7-14 days.

Thankfully, a very close friend of my in CT has so kindly mailed me her Lucky Rock.  This isn't just any rock.  No way! This rock has been her lucky rock that has saved her from much heartache to say nothing of possible death.  She tells me there is plenty of luck left inside it even though she used up most of the stuff on the outer surface.  That rock sits right next to my head on my bed stand.  The loan of this Lucky Rock is for the remainder of my treatment.  I'll take that for sure.  The Lucky Rock will return to CT after my treatments are over; hopefully still loaded with plenty of lucky to take care of this good friend for years to come.

More time with the Radiation team

I spent another two hours with the radiation team at the cancer center this morning.  We did the sedative again because today was the big day - try and form the mask plastic around my head, neck and shoulders.   Thankfully, with the sedative strong enough to knock out a moose, I was able to lay flat and allow them to form the damn think about me.  Once it was formed, it had to be left in place over me 15 minutes to harden.  The team was wise enough to very quickly cut out eye holes as soon as the plastic mesh material was over my head....that probably saved me from going banadas and destroying all that expensive gear trying to get up and out of that room!

Of course, tonight, after getting that sedative out of my system, I had to check with Lieska to see how much fun I had.  She says things went pretty good, nobody got hurt and the mask-making work is complete. 

Next radiation stop.....the real deal.  We still start my first radiation treatment December 15.  Apparently, cancer does not take time out for Christmas and New Year.  No surprise there...sigh.

Giving Hypnosis a try

Tuesday I had my first session with a Clinical Hypnotherapist - we'll call him Doc B. We have prepared a series of sessions to deal withe my radiation challenges based on a phonbia that keeps me from being able to lay flat with my head and shoulders locked in place. I have no previous history with hypnosis but I am including this work to make sure I do not leave any stone unturned. I will go through a number of session with Doc B; I am eager to see if this work will lead to some relief with this huge problem.