There and Back
Again
I
have never smoked, never worked in asbestos, and wasn’t of oriental heritage.
So when my ENT told me I had a large tumor in my sinus it was like winning the
lottery, in the worst possible sense. Like every other cancer victim I was
shocked. I searched the Internet and asked every professional for my odds.
40percent? 50 percent? It was like betting with the devil in a poker game
orchestrated by Steven King.
Then
a got a call from an old friend. Oscar had been there and back again. Despite
the fact that he was a few decades older, he had gone through the rigorous
treatment I was facing, and was about to celebrate his fifth year of remission.
He told me it would be rough—but to just hold on. He’ll never know what he did
for me with that call.

So together, my wife and I
took one step, then the next, to my cure. Here are a few of the steps we took
so that others can follow.
First,
find not one good doctor but three—an ENT (a surgeon for a biopsy and ongoing
support), a radiation oncologist and a hematologist. It’s very important that you trust these
people completely so it’s worth the effort to check around. My friend had
suggested we research M.D. Anderson in
Then
you have to find a good machine. As odd as it sounds, this is probably one of
the few situations in life when your survival is going to depend on the quality
of a piece of equipment. Let me explain: A tumor as big as mine was (over 4 cm,
at the back of the sinus) is for all practical purposes inoperable. (My ENT
joked he could “take half my head off if he wanted…”) Even if it could be removed, that’s not the
path to survival since research shows that the surgery increases the chance of
metastasis.
So
you need one of the most advanced pieces of medical equipment in the country, a
radiation machine that can deliver a 3-dimensional dose of radiation to the
exact location of your tumor. It must enter from all angles, since you can’t
burn the other tissues as badly as you’ll be burning the tumor. Ideally, it
must also be able to watch the tumor shrink (X-ray and CT scan) at the same
time. I found that one of the newest was close to home. When our radiation guy
bragged about “my machine” we laughed at first, then (lovingly) named him “Ming
the Merciless” after the old Flash Gordon villain.
Finally,
you need to eat…and eat…and eat before you begin treatment. I was probably 20
pounds overweight. The doctor said, “Eat anyway. You’ll lose a great deal of
weight during the treatment, and there’s a guy down the hall just waiting to
fit you with a J tube (for feeding directly into the stomach).”
The
Gory Details: