Dosimeter

Today at our weekly BOB meeting six alums were here for checkups. The institute has each of its former patients to return for a yearly checkup. The six alums ranged from 1-4 years since the completion of their treatment. Each of them shared their story to the group of 75 people. All related the same story of how their urologist told them that they needed to have surgery. One of the alums is a retired surgeon who shared how he came to choose proton therapy over traditional surgery. The surgeon’s brother had prostate surgery a few years before he was diagnosed. His brother chose the robotic surgery, and he had much difficulty afterwards with quality of life issues. Additionally, he had to have supplemental hormonal treatments. The alum assured us that everyone who has the surgery does not have this level of problems, but this experience was enough to convince him that proton therapy was the best treatment for his cancer.

The surgeon told another story of a colleague who is a radiologist who had the proton therapy treatment in Jacksonville. He related how every person who works around any kind of radiation wears a dosimeter badge that measures radiation exposure. When the radiologist began his treatment he asked the therapist if he could place his dosimeter on his abdomen during each treatment. They agreed that would be OK for him to do this. Each treatment the radiologist would place the badge on his abdomen. At the end of 39 treatments the dosimeter did not show any radiation exposure!

That made me feel much better. I have read; I have been told; I have seen power point presentations; and I have been assured that every time I have had a treatment that all the radiation dosage was being delivered to the prostate. But, as I have lain on that expensive table in the guts of that giant machine one thing has bothered me: why do the therapists always leave the room once they have me positioned and once the machine is perfectly lined up for the treatment. They ring this “doorbell” and immediately leave the gantry. Double doors seal with big decals on them that say “Do not enter. Danger. Radiation in progress.” A big red light comes on that says, “Beam on.” They don’t re-enter the gantry until the green light says, “Beam off.”

Now I have more assurance. The room is not full of radiation. These therapists treat 120 people a day. It’s the old adage that we grew up with—better safe than sorry. I am no longer concerned about getting too much exposure. Dosimeters don’t lie.