February 12, 2026 — Radiation on the Horizon

Today Claire and I went in for a consultation with Dr. Harry Quon, Associate Professor of Radiation Oncology and Molecular Radiation Sciences at Johns Hopkins Medical School. After performing the through-the-nostril scoping of my vocal cord area that I’m beginning to think is obligatory for laryngology patients, he shared some details about what’s ahead for my radiation treatments.

This Tuesday I’ll go in for a preparatory session with him, in which he’ll craft a custom plastic mask that conforms to the shape of my head. They’ll put that device on me each time I come in for a treatment. The purpose of the mask is to immobilize my head during the few minutes the radiation beam is being directed at my neck. Precise targeting of the beam prevents damage to other nearby tissues.

The doctor drew us a little diagram of the human neck. He told us he'll be directing the beam towards the space where the thyroid gland (for people who still have them) wraps around the front of the larynx. The purpose is to stop any thyroid-cancer cells that may still be remaining after the surgery from invading my larynx. The outer surface of the larynx will be irradiated along with other nearby tissue, but Dr. Quon's goal is to make that irradiated area as shallow as possible, so as not to damage the larynx.

With respect to the mask, he asked me if I have any problems with claustrophobia, and I was happy to be able to tell him that I don’t think I do. We’ll see.

Dr. Quon explained that, although the radiation sessions are brief, they’ll have a cumulative effect on me including especially fatigue, but also the likelihood of sunburn-like irritation to the skin of my neck. Some patients experience just redness, others sores and even blisters. Pain can become a growing issue over time, but they have ways of managing that. Some patients experience difficulty swallowing during the last weeks of treatment, but that side effect usually goes away once treatment is ended.

When I next see him, he’ll start me on a medicine called gabapentin. The primary use of gabapentin is as an anti-seizure medication, but that’s not why he wants me to take it. Apparently, it has an off-label prophylactic benefit of preventing nerve pain, if it’s started a couple weeks before radiation treatments begin.

He observed that my surgical incision is healing nicely -- which is good because radiation therapy typically results in a hardening of the skin in areas where the beam is directed. Towards the end of a series of treatments, patients sometimes need a massage-like form of physical therapy focused on breaking up hard masses that form under the skin.

My radiation treatments will probably begin in the first week of March. Fifteen minutes a day, five days a week. I should be able to drive myself there and back, the doctor says.

After the consultation was over, Claire suggested that we walk to one of her favorite places in the hospital, the larger-than-life marble statue of Jesus located in the atrium of the original hospital building. It’s called “Christus Consolator” by some, and “the Divine Healer” by others. Claire has memories of going to see it while visiting the hospital with her mother, who worked there for decades as a nurse. As sculptures go, it’s remarkably beautiful. Its location at what used to be the main entrance must have been quite moving to patients, back in the day. Because most people enter the sprawling hospital complex these days through other entrances, it's no longer something a whole lot of people get to see -- but it’s certainly worth a look. 

Here’s a write-up on the statue I found online:

“Baltimore society was shocked when the university opened in 1876 with no religious affiliation, as was customary for the time, prompting several news publications to question what kind of university it would become. At the hospital’s opening 13 years later, university President Daniel Gilman avoided any similar criticism by asking for ‘some friend of this hospital’ to fund the installation of a replica of the Christus Consolator statue in Copenhagen.

A close friend of Mr. Johns Hopkins, [local philanthropist William Wallace] Spence donated the funds to complete the statue — referenced by many as the “Divine Healer” — and it was unveiled on Oct. 14, 1896.”

It seemed a fitting detour to make as we’re on the threshold of this new healing adventure.