So far I have had four radiation sessions for the Merkel carcinoma discovered on the upper left eyelid. This feels like enough sessions from which to report on how things have gone so far.

First, getting in there is a lot easier than it could otherwise have been. As previously reported, my beloved is steadfastly driving me in to the appointments. These are all scheduled, from Monday-Tuesday and Thursday-Friday, at or around 2.00 pm. (No sessions on Wednesdays.) We allow an hour for the trip, so leave after an early lunch.

(There was a potential alternative means of getting in and out mentioned by the Peter Mac people, i.e. free patient transport both ways. Ripper, Rita! Unfortunately, as with so much else, when investigated, this proved to have a few hairs on it. This patient transport service is provided by Ambulance Victoria; to use it, one has to be a paid-up member of theirs. We had vaguely thought that we were covered for ambulance transport through our health insurance fund. We are, but only for emergency transport. We have since joined AV, of course, the cost of which was quite modest. There is, however, a 14 day waiting period on non-emergency patient transport. So much for being a free rider — no pun intended. The hospital did warn me that return trips could be quite delayed, for reasons of which they weren’t quite sure. Nevertheless, when I qualify I will definitely investigate it. In the meantime, though, it is not totes terrible for my beloved. She takes in her laptop and connects via the Peter Mac wifi. Being on sick leave from her employer, she is excused from having to drive in there twice a week. She is still doing a mighty job!)

Second, the sessions themselves are not a big deal. Someone comes out to fetch me and waves their way through secure doors to the radiation department. Within these hallowed halls another radiographer, or whatever they are, is waiting alongside the machine that does the business. I recite my name, rank and serial number each time — they are keen to avoid zapping the wrong patient — and recline on a narrow sort of bed with side rails. (They raise it for this purpose, following the reverse procedure afterwards.) They put a couple of numbing eye drops in the left eye, and fit a lead mask (this was fitted around the contours of my dial in the measuring session the week before last). After the drops have had their effect, the radiation folk gently slide in the metal shield that sits on top of my cornea. This is a bit like a large contact lens, fitting underneath the upper eyelid, which holds it in place. The drops numb my eye to the point where I can feel the shield going in and sitting there, but without any discomfort. Obviously all this faffing around is because of the location of the carcinoma on my upper eyelid, and the corresponding need to protect the surrounding areas. So whatever they do is fine by me!

When they are happy, one of the radiographers goes through a brief checklist with the other covering what they have done and to whom. They tell me not to move, and retreat elsewhere before starting the actual radiation. This only lasts a few minutes, but I am still rather glad to hear their footsteps approaching, followed by their congratulations for having done such a good job of lying on the bed. They put an eye patch over the left eye, and I make my way back out to the waiting area. (The eye patch is in case the eye gets some grit in it. Being still numbed from the drops, the eye wouldn’t give the usual signals that would prompt one to rinse out the grit. Damage to the eye might therefore result. This is typical of the thoroughness and foresight of the Peter Mac radiation staff.)

The effect of the sessions is mainly in feeling a bit tired when we get home. Apparently the side effects are more apparent the more sessions one has had. These side effects are felt mainly on the eyelid and eyebrow; the former becomes red and irritated, and the latter tends permanently to disappear. (My beloved is being very assiduous in daubing a cold cream-like ointment on the eyelid, and “encouraging” me to drink five glasses of water a day. These are preventive measures the nurse we saw earlier recommended.) Last week I felt well enough to go to an exercise session on Wednesday — something I intend to keep up.