I met with my Ninja Surgeon this week. It has been 2 months almost to the day. He was still as calm as ever and exceedingly modest for what he had accomplished. I had 3 MRI's performed last week, one on my neck, and two of my head, with and without contrast, and we reviewed those results. Since my last posting, my headache has come back temporarily but it only lasted for a couple of days. And finally, as I continually get better, I lament my fading memory of Acromegaly.
The meeting with my neurosurgeon went very well. We reviewed the images both before and after surgery. Though I had seen the initial images before, I didn't have an appreciation for what I was looking at nor did I know what it was supposed to look like. The milky film of wavy varying grey lines is remarkably vague and yet with it, they are able to pin point foreign and abnormal conditions inside your body. My tumor was 14x13x11mm in size. For those that are metrically challenged (as I am), that's about 1/2" at it largest point and 3/8" at it's narrowest. The post-op images confirmed that there is no trace of a tumor at all. It's completely gone and in it's place is that coveted hollow blackish grey area indicating normal fluid or space. I feel a party coming on...
We also reviewed my neck and it too looked very normal and we compared it to the one taken right after my surgery when I was complaining of severe neck pain. The normal one showed very clear, distinct, linear lines up and down the spinal column while the other one showed a torpedo shaped void along the edge my of my spine which clearly was abnormal. This void is what he suspected was fluid or blood that had make its way into my spine and caused the pain. He mentioned again that he had never seen this happen before and was going to look in the medical journals to see if there is anything documented on it. Thankfully, it cleared after two weeks and I will say this was the most frightening part of this whole experience.
After going a couple weeks without a headache, it returned with some intensity a couple of weeks ago. Having learned from my prior experience, I keep a small supply of Percocet with me at all times and my new habit afforded me timely relief. I've learned that these headaches come and go on their own. They seem to start for no good reason and they seem to end with the same. I've noticed that my frame of reference has changed along with my symptoms. I used to measure my "wellness" by the brief periods of pain-free moments I had throughout my day. Now it's down to the brief periods of abnormalities I feel throughout the week.
In my last update, I mentioned that I had thought the spasm in my limbs had gone away but that was premature. I still have them and it's a weird sensation. It's not pain, it's just a twinge that says, hey, I'm here, remember me? Sometimes I'll take notice and I ignore it intentionally... :)
I'll close with some observations, some that I appreciate and some that I find rather lamentable. I have never had the opportunity to live with continuous pain. I say opportunity because it has been a true test of character and I've learned a lot about myself in the process. I'd like to think that I handled it well but 2 months is hardly what anyone would consider chronic pain. In the short time (which seemed like forever) that I was dealing with it, I was forced to take stock in what was important and what was not. I remember the first thing that I regretted most was not being able to play with my kids. And seeing the disappointed look on my youngest boys face when he would ask me to play and learning that I couldn't was more than I could bear. I would move mountains for my boyz and up to now, I believe they thought I could. In the end, I learned that they weren't looking for a super hero, they just wanted to play with dad. And it was okay that they didn't understand what I was going through. I would consider it a blessing if they remained healthy enough to never have that kind of understanding.
Now comes the irony. The same thing that I would wouldn't wish on my kids (or anyone for that matter), I value. I value the experience and the lessons and while I would like to believe that these lessons have changed me, I'm already starting to see evidence of a fading memory. In my research, I learned that many still struggle with the symptoms, even after surgery. My heart goes out to them. I just happened to be one of the lucky ones. I'm grateful for that, I just wish everyone could be as fortunate. As my life resumes more towards normal however, I see the daily issues taking over like weeds again, just as it was before the surgery. The petty things take over and they somehow manage to get disproportionately large. Perhaps this is another thing I need to learn about myself and take steps to keep that from happening, the proverbial weed-whacker...
Some speculate that the stress in my life contributed to the growth of the tumor. I don't know how real that is and I suppose I'll never really know but I can commit to keeping my perspective and only sweat the important stuff.
Read full post!
Posts
