On the next clinic visit I met with my Multi-Disciplinary Team (MDT) which turned out to be a roomful of consultants, doctors and nurses, each with their own specialism. The consultant now taking the lead told me what was going to happen. Mr A seemed to be taking more of a back seat now so let’s call the new bloke Dr B. He’s a consultant but not a consultant surgeon so he can’t call himself Mr B. I know.
First of all he said the cancer was not only treatable but it was curable. Good news.
And the treatment would be a course of radiotherapy with a bit of ‘light chemotherapy’. Which didn’t sound too bad.There could have been surgery.
But first off I was sent for an x-ray of my mouth. Apparently if you have any dodgy teeth the radiotherapy can lead to all sorts of problems and they like to just take anything suspicious out. Turned out I had a cracked wisdom tooth, which was news to me, but it had to go.
So the next day I get a phonecall telling me to come in to the hospital dentists.
Just as with tonsils, I’d heard all sorts of horror stories about wisdom teeth removal. But when they whipped mine out there wasn’t any problem. In fact I stayed in my wheelchair while they did it and everything went without a hitch. I recovered quickly and experienced little pain. All of which might have had something to do wih my regularly receiving hyperbaric oxygen treatment, known to help with wound healing. I’d been having it for over ten years as a therapy for MS.
The only slightly annoying thing about the wisdom tooth experience was that I was left with a stitch in my gum that seemed to take an age to dissolve.