Slo-mo cliffhanger

Decided to buzz the left side of my head even though I am not getting the biopsy.
Decided to buzz the left side of my head even though I am not getting the biopsy.

I was told by my neurosurgeon in my “pre-biopsy” appointment last Thursday that my recent PET scans and MRIs show that there are no tumors in my organs, lymph, or spine.  That is truly awesome news.  Thing is, I never suspected that there was any metastasis, so instead of feeling relieved, I was like, “well, DUH.”

The result of this fantastic news is a total game-plan-change, which took me so much by surprise that I felt like someone kicked me in the gut and pushed me down one of those really steep water slides. I guess I don’t handle change well. Or dealing with the unknown.

I was mostly on board with the whole poke-Bob-with-a-needle and find out what he’s really made of plan.  I was mentally prepared to review the details and risks of the procedure, then go for it, as I was told three weeks ago that it would be scheduled this week.  Then, presto-plan-change occurred in front of my eyes (envision the magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, but instead of a hat, it’s your gut and instead of a rabbit, it’s your lunch).

Took some deep breaths, slept three hours when we got home from that appointment, spoke to many a friend and my mom, and finally came to the conclusion that instead of freaking out that THE PLAN changed… I can embrace the fact that no one is drilling into my skull this coming week (which, as he detailed the risks involved, frankly became much less appealing). That’s the good news, yippee.  Surreal that THIS is now what is considered good news in my world.

So, countdown to 5 ½ more weeks until the next brain MRI (which will be a total of three months since the first peek).  If Bob is behaving and not trying to take over the rest of my brain, he gets to chill up in there; if he is reproducing baby stars in his galaxy (i.e. growing) then, back to plan A, biopsy the bastard.

And so on… no growth, wait 3 months, MRI, rinse, repeat.

Soooo, more will be revealed… or not.

Dawn

Full of hot air

sparkly fairy dust

I expect the needle biopsy to go something like this: shave a little part of my scalp where the hole will be drilled (followed by some form of awesome 80’s haircut!), drill a little hole, out of which sparkly fairy dust will fly, slide the teeny but long needle down into my brain, resulting in a loud hissing sound of the release of hot air, and finally, the neurosurgeon exclaims, “Why Ms.Taylor, you are a medical wonder, there is nothing in your skull but hot air and fairy dust!”

Pre-biospy prep: I had my first PET scan today, which was easier to deal with than an MRI, as the tube is open on both ends and it doesn’t sound like your head is inside an amplified tumble dryer full of rocks.  Hella more expensive though!  I sure hope I hit my out of pocket max with my health insurance soon. They scanned from my forehead to the top of my thighs, looking at all of my lymph nodes and organs to make sure there is no metastasis.  Then I get to go back for three additional MRIs tomorrow.  My follow up with my neurosurgeon to review these results and discuss the biopsy will be next Thursday, with the stereotactic needle biopsy tentatively scheduled for the following week (two weeks from now).  I’m hoping they record it so I can watch it later!

Pause for tumor-humor (if I already told you this one, just blame it on the brain tumor):  My ex-boyfriend, become best friend, asked me awhile ago, “Is that a brain tumor, or are you just happy to see me?”  He came up with a lot of great material that I hope I wrote down somewhere, and can remember where, because I can’t remember the stuff he came up with.

Well, my friends, thank you for reading.  More will be revealed.

Love & light,

Dawn