One Year In

Hard to believe it’s been a full year since May 2025, when I finished my 7-week round of chemo-radiation sessions for throat cancer. It’s traditional to bang a gong to celebrate the end of radiation treatment, but I was up for something more than the 10″ gong in the Kaiser radiology lab, and borrowed this beautiful gong from a local sound treatment specialist, and organised an outing to Albany Bulb. Amy shot this wonderful image of me celebrating the last day of radiation.

Photo by Amy Kubes

It’s been a wild ride since, grappling with an array of side effects and symptoms. Neuropathy that’s manifested as “stockings and gloves” – tingling in the hands and feet – slowly rising and then settling down over the past year. Loss of salivation and sense of taste – another one that’s come back somewhat over the past year, but not entirely. I still have a Xylimelt saliva-encouraging tablet in my mouth at all times. For a while, it seemed like I would be permanently down 30 pounds, but some of that weight has come back, for better and for worse.

And then there’s the late-arriving symptom that has been particularly problematic: Tinnitus in the left ear from radiation that swiped its way over the left side of my face every day for almost two months — sometimes the persistent ringing almost turns to howling, and it’s incredibly annoying. I know there’s literally nothing that can be done about tinnitus, and that visits to the doctors will only result in “coping strategies” (I’ve been down this road with it before) so I haven’t talked to the doc about this. I just live with it.

Another big one is not so much a symptom as it is a result – I lost a fair bit of muscle mass in my butt and thighs, and with it, lost some stamina while cycling. I just can’t do the distances and speeds I used to do. With diligence, I’m sure I could bring some of it back over time, but it’s going to take a lot of work, and honestly I’m feeling fine about shorter and less-frequent rides – distance cycling is so time consuming!

Other than that, it’s pretty much normal life again now. I’m back to working 3/4 time, leaving just enough time each day to work on my images and frames. And I still hike in local hills around 5 miles/day, before and after work – proud to say I never stopped my daily walks even through the thick of treatment. It feels like a life-long-habit that I intend to do forever, through several more dogs.

Every three months I go to see my oncologist, who does a visual check for recurrence of tumours by anaesthetising my nostril and pushing in a camera to look down from the top. So far, so good. No signs. And in the process I’ve learned my oncologist is both a snowboarder and a Deadhead, like me. Life is good.

The type of cancer I had was caused by the HPV virus. When I was young, there was no vaccine for it. Today, we’re incredibly fortunate that young people can be vaccinated for HPV, and need never risk contracting this sort of cancer. If you have teenage kids, please PLEASE vaccinate for HPV. Your future self will thank you.

Happy anniversary, me. Well done.

10 Replies to “One Year In”

  1. Scot,
    You are an amazing person who inspires us all. Whether you are gloomy or estatic you always see the positive in life and share it
    with your friends and family. You make life feel so real and alive.
    Thanks for sharing your experience with us and don’t stop now.
    Dad

    1. Awww, thank you Dad. But I must correct one part of that – YOU are the inspiration around here, and always have been. Thanks for being there when I was a boy, and thanks for being there for me now.

  2. So happy to hear that you are on the other side. The tinnitus sounds like a giant pain in the ass, especially for someone who is as audio oriented as you are, sorry to hear about that. And I have experience with neuropathy (in my case, I got it after Covid, weird, huh?), in my case it’s mostly annoying, but not life limiting, sounds like it’s similar for you.
    But so happy to hear that you’re able to walk 5 miles every day, able to be outside and enjoying life. Sadly, I know quite a few people who have had worse outcomes. I’m delighted that you are capable of enjoying life, and doing so!

    1. Neuropathy after Covid? I had not heard that before, and did not even know it was possible! Bodies are so weird. Yes, I consider myself lucky to have had this outcome, and grateful that I am able to keep on truckin’. There was a time in the early part where I was already mentally “Putting my affairs in order.” Blessed to hike another day.

  3. So happy your outcome has been mostly positive and life is normalizing for the most part. Sorry to hear you’re not able to put in as many miles on the bike. As Ward said, I wish I was walking that much myself. Bravo mate!

  4. Good to hear you are mostly back to normal. So fortunate that you found it early and got the treatment you needed. And also glad that you are coming to terms with a smaller butt and fewer miles on the road.

    1. Thanks Gary. I think the smaller butt may be the worst side effect of all. Joking! But it has definitely affected what I can do outdoors. Here’s to the next adventure.

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