Squamous cell carcinoma (SCC) – lateral tongue: white (left), violet (center), and green amber. (left)
Click here to enlarge imageTwo years ago I was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma. Fortunately, I was able to save my tongue and vocal cords. I firmly believe I was spared so that I could speak to you, my fellow dentists, and convey a first–person message of how critical it is for you to screen your patients for this dreaded disease.
Oral cancer is more deadly (in terms of five–year mortality rate) than cervical, breast, liver, kidney, thyroid, colon, or prostate cancers. It is growing at double–digit rates, despite declines in alcohol and tobacco use. This increase is due largely to the spread of HPV–16 and HPV–18 via all forms of sex, but particularly oral sex. For that reason, oral cancer is increasingly showing up in the young adult population, and the fastest growing group is females in their 40s.
I had a superball–size mass at the base of my tongue, and a secondary tumor the size of a baseball in a lymph node in my neck. I realized when I couldn't button my shirt collar that it was probably more than an infection, but I ignored this for six months! I eventually asked my hygienist what she thought of the lump, and then I asked a physician friend, and I ultimately had an MRI and biopsy.
Then I did the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my 53 years — I told my wife and 9– and 10–year–old boys that I had cancer.
Subsequently, I underwent five months of chemotherapy, 33 radiation sessions, radiation implant therapy, and surgery. Besides a lengthy scar on my neck, the loss of my taste buds and salivary gland function, and numbness in my hands and feet (from chemo), I am fine. In fact, I might even be better than I was!
Some say cancer is a gift because one learns so much, and surviving it inspires the patient to reach out and help others. Of course, it's almost ironic that I developed oral cancer, especially since I'm a dentist who hasn't smoked in the last 25 years, and I hardly ever drink alcohol. I'm lucky to be alive, but it's an even greater miracle that I can talk.
I am now on a crusade against what has become one of the deadliest cancers in America. I'm dedicated to prevention and early detection of the disease, and I know together we can make a difference.
When I was in the middle of my chemo and radiation treatments (not a particularly pleasant time), I reached out to Brian Hill, president of the Oral Cancer Foundation (OCF). He has become my friend and mentor, and is always a great source of information.
I wanted to help prevent others from contracting this disease, or I at least want them to be able to catch it earlier. People diagnosed with Stage I have an 80% to 90% survival rate. Brian directed me toward the latest technology — early detection through fluorescence. Healthy tissue fluoresces, but unhealthy tissue does not.
There are a few devices and techniques on the market. Among the newest is the “multispectral” optical technology developed by Trimira at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston (and others). I considered going for my treatments there when I learned they were considered the premier oral cancer center in the country. That's why I became very interested and excited about this device.