UNthrilled

Two of my three brain residents

I got the news yesterday – oh boy. Saw my spectacular neurologist for the annual wut up. We reviewed the results of the 70,000 (OK…four) MRIs that I recently suffered through and dished on my corporeal happenings of the past year. I told him of a little incident which occurred while I was out West visiting the awesome Ten.

One evening, after having spent a few long days in the car touring the BRILLIANT environs, I had, on getting back to Ten’s crib, a nasty ass episode of numbness and mega weakness in my left leg. It was scary as fuck. As usual, I figured one of my old (or a NEW one!) rat bastard tumors was making its presence known with authority. 

I texted fast and furious with Jen. She calmed me down. Maybe the leg fail was because we’d spent so many days in the car – sitting in one position and NOT getting enough exercise. Possibly sure but I kinda knew it was my team of talented, dancing meningiomas. I knew I’d be having MRIs and Plotkin time a few weeks later so I back-burnered the freakout.

DING, DING, DING – the incident in Oregon (sounds like a spy movie, don’t it?) WAS in fact tumor sparked. Could’ve been one of the assholic weasels in ma tête (I got three!) BUT he’s leaning toward the one on my thoracic spine. Turns out it’s grown over the last few years. (they grow up so fast! *sigh*). Damn glad I opted for a full round of MRIs this year instead of just a bean scan.

So, where do we go from here? I’m waiting for my appointment with the cutter – Doctor Jean-Valery Charles-Emile Coumans. Hey, he’s French – WAY cool! I’ll have to grill him, get his life story and shit. Also, I’m assuming my scar will be minimal and way elegant because…ya know….FRENCH STYLE! I gotta take off a few more pounds so I can rock the new scar with appropriate amounts of finesse, suavity and, above all, poise. Of course.

For my at home recovery time, I’ll stock up on easy to make GOOD food (ya know – spinach, seaweed crisps, strawberries and CARROT CAKE!), books, vids (Oni has a large collection of sci fi discs), sketchbooks, crayons and I'll prime a couple canvases. This'll be like a long holiday. PLUS, I always lose weight when I go through these surgeries and I SO need to drop 20.

There IS a chance that I won’t be a candidate for cutting. Dunno why but I’m sure they’ll explain it to me. What happens then? Not sure BUT Plotkin said that his team is in the process of developing a magic pill which will either quell the symptoms OR shrink the tumor (which would, in turn, ixnay the crap). Sounds great, eh? Yes indeedy but they’re a year out from release. *sigh* I am ALWAYS too early!

I HATE waiting. I wanna know everything now, NOW, NOW!