(written July 16, 2019) This month marks anniversary of going to an urgent care with a headache and ending up in the ER for a CT scan and admitted to the hospital for an MRI. Oh how you haunt me, July 15, 2018!
Yesterday, July 15, 2019, I had my follow-up appointment for my most recent MRI. Purely coincidental, but at least I could panic about everything at once and get it out of my system. I hate that I still have PTSD from last summer’s discovery of my benign meningiomas (brain tumors). Meningiomas grow on the outer membrane of the brain and have less of an immediate impact on the brain unless they get to a certain size (ex: golf-ball sized). Usually they grow at a slow rate and are non-aggressive 95% of the time. I currently do not have symptoms of said impact and the recent MRI on July 9, 2019 shows that my brain is still perfectly aligned. I am not dying. (If you need proof, I’ll show you pictures, but I’m not putting them here.) Last summer (2018), I went to an urgent care with a headache that wouldn’t go away (my oncologist had always said to do this). Coincidentally, I had severe dry eye and undiagnosed TMJ (most likely causing the migraine – or dehydration) that landed me in the ER for a CT scan. My courageous brother (I love you even if you don’t read my blog) drove me to the ER and stayed with me when I was admitted to a room in the hospital. What I cannot shake after a year was the imminent feeling of mortality. When the CT scans came back, an ER nurse came in and told me, “I’m so sorry, but you have masses in your brain.” And then she left the room. I turned to my brother and said “I’m going to die!” I wish I had known at the time that there was such a thing as benign brain tumors, but I don’t know if that would have pacified my mind or not. The MRI was scheduled for 11:30pm so I had to stay overnight. I couldn’t eat until after the MRI because of the possibility of immediate surgery (I did get to eat the sandwich my brother brought for me sometime after midnight). By 1:00pm the following day, in the presence of three of my closest friends, the doctor made his rounds to discuss the MRI results. And this is when I learned about benign brain tumors! Who knew there was such a thing as mostly-harmless brain tumors? My mother arrived in time for my discharge (it feels more like a prison release) from the hospital, but then I spent about two weeks in complete anxiety before the out-patient follow-up. Never Google your diagnosis before talking to a doctor unless you want to lose your sanity. The reassuring thing about benign brain tumors is that they are really not something to worry about (although I have to repeat that to myself on a regular basis). All they do is sit and chill and possibly grow. Mine have probably been chilling in my brain for thirty years (most likely caused by radiation chemotherapy I received during cancer treatment for leukemia). To lighten my sanity, I did name them Lady Macbeth (the largest one), Viola, Polonius, and Dogberry. (Allusion hint: a nod to Shakespeare and “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”.) To be clear, they are still the bane of my existence. Now in 2019, I had an MRI on a Tuesday, a phone call on a Thursday, and the follow-up appointment on a Monday (anniversary). Between the phone call about a “slight growth” and despite the nurse’s caution of “do not worry” – what do you think I did all weekend? Some weight has lifted now because the nurse is excellent at explaining things in person, but you how I am. Anyway, here is my most recent installment of Good News, Bad News which I have appropriately renamed: The Not-so-Good News: My largest brain tumor is growing slightly more significantly than January and even July of last year. The Not-so-Bad News: All my brain tumors (meningiomas) are still benign and not cancerous. The doctors use the word “lesions” because that sounds better than “tumors”, although I’ve gotten used to the word “tumors” over the past year. The Not-so-Good News: Because the largest one is growing means that I will have to stick with MRIs every six months, rather than graduating to annual check-ups. The Not-so-Bad News: I’m getting pretty good at MRIs. Beyoncé helps. The Not-so-Good News: Also, because the largest one is growing means that my time frame for brain surgery might be sooner rather than later. This does not mean tomorrow or next week. Initially, the prediction was ten to fifteen years, now it may be within the next five to ten years. Maybe even sooner than that. Who knows? The Not-so-Bad News: I can live with the time frame shift, I’m just petrified of surgery. The Not-so-Good News: Between a Thursday phone call from the nurse and a Monday follow-up appointment, I spent a weekend panicking about the tumors growing and what the future holds. The Not-so-Bad News: I danced all weekend and had amazing support from friends to keep my mind off of the news and upcoming follow-up appointment (Thursday and Friday were the hardest to get through because my emotions were still so raw). The Not-so-Good News: I’m still resentful of the fact that lesion-tumors are there at all. Seriously, why me? Again? I’m tired of putting on a front that “I am perfectly fine.” I am not fine. The Not-so-Bad News: I want to reiterate, I am not dying. My benign brain tumors are not life-threatening. Even with the most recent MRI, my brain is not impacted by the tumors hanging out on the outer membrane. The nurse even showed me another person’s brain with tumors expanding into it to illustrate the difference between mine and someone else’s. I really am fine, although fine is a relative term. I will be fine. (Also, to be clear, my slow processing speed – “chemo brain” – has nothing to do with the brain tumors other than they were both caused by my cancer treatment.) The Not-so-Good News: PTSD from last summer is not fun. Especially less-so when added to PTSD from cancer treatment, thirty-three years of bottled-up emotions. Darn you, anxiety! The Not-so-Bad News: Scheduling an MRI in December versus January means that there is a chance I will meet my insurance’s deductible this year and the MRI will be free! Already this calendar year I’ve had physical therapy just about every week, therapy every three weeks, two MRIs, my annual physical, and my annual oncology appointment… so looking pretty likely! I met it last year, so fingers crossed for two years running. Hooray! So, given the circumstances this isn’t so bad after all. If only the tumors would just disappear? That would be a real cause for celebration! Comments are closed.
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Sarah L. H. White Titles Index2016
1. Symbolism of Blog Creation
2. I Think I Have a Brain Tumor and Other (Ir)rational Worries About My Health 3. Past and Future Selves 4. To My Future Husband 5. Don't Panic! I'm Alone... It's Normal? 6. Identity? 7. New Worries 8. Time Keeps on Slipping... into Chemo Brain 9. Fears... and a Scary Movie 10. Be Calm, Be Brave, It'll Be Okay 11. A Frozen Lullaby: My Not-So-Brief Journal of Egg Retrieval and Freezing 12. Superpowers and Fears: Us Vs. Cancer 13. Having Cancer: The 30th Anniversary of My Diagnosis 2017
14. Birthdays
15. Blog Anniversary: Year One 16. Death: Coping with Grief (and Fear) 17. Don't Panic and Always Carry a Towel: A Study in Anxiety Through an Insomniac's Stream-of-Consciousness 18. Holiday Letter 2018
19. Resumé
20. My Childhood Misconception of Why We Didn't Own a Microwave: Thoughts on Radiation 21. The Science of Scheduling Appointments 22. Armageddon: An Ode to Doctors 23. Brain Tumors and Hurricanes 24. (Ir)Rational Attempts at Finding Closure 2019
25. Good News, Bad News
26. The Extroverted Introvert's Guide to Social Interactions with Chemo Brain - or How to Burn Bridges and Alienate People 27. I'm a Survivor: 30th Anniversary Post-Treatment 28. Summertime Happy-Sadness 29. Let's Talk About Therapy 30. Not-so-Good News, Not-so-Bad News 31. Having Cancer: Then and Now (1994) 32. Dream of Becoming "Crazy Cat Lady" Foiled by Allergies 33. V is for VAMPire 34. Are You Strong Enough to be My Man? 35. Put a Band-Aid On It 2020
36. Vision 2020, or Let it Go
37. Control Freak 38. Somewhere Between the Introvert's Dream and the Hypochondriac's Nightmare 39. Alone Together 40. Finding Love: Dating in the Time of a Pandemic 41. Cosmic Irony Strikes Again 42. Insert Clever Title Here: Brain Surgery #1 43. It Could Be Worse 2021
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